


Enouement.

by IViv



Series: IronStrange MCU Overhaul [3]
Category: Avengers: Endgame - Fandom, Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But no character bashing either, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Civil War Team Iron Man, Do-Over, Don’t copy to another site, I repeat endgame spoilers, M/M, Mildly Not Ex-vengers friendly, Supreme Family, Team Bitter, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Tony & Stephen & Peter Established Supreme Family, Tony / Stephen Established Relationship, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark deserves happiness, Tony-centric, Translations welcomed, endgame spoilers, well historically Tony Stark, who's going to save Tony Stark?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-02-25 23:50:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 42,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18712219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IViv/pseuds/IViv
Summary: Five years after defeating the Mad Titan, Tony and Stephen lived in blissful retirement.Tony treasured his new life, the happiness he’d lost and found. He wouldn’t do a thing to change the present, but one day, he started having chilling visions from a time long past.





	1. Preface

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, new readers! As a continuation of Anew and Renew, this fic will remain mildly unfriendly toward the Ex-vengers. There won't be much screen time reserved for them. Please consider the tags very carefully before you proceed. Those who cannot stomach characters facing consequences for their actions need not read. Otherwise, enjoy the story!

This fic is the sequel to [Anew. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985126/chapters/27111240)and [Renew.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764346/chapters/34143008) It is the third and final instalment of my slightly ambitious [IronStrange MCU Overhaul](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1032258).

 

As a time-travel do-over series, it is strongly recommended that you begin reading from the start of [Anew. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985126/chapters/27111240)However, if you are impatient like me and would prefer to skip the past arcs (which begins from the second act of Iron Man 2, leading all the way up to Infinity War), you can jump straight into this rewrite of Endgame, as each instalment stands on its own and can be read separately. Just treat this as an alternate timeline.

I began writing Anew in August 2017. Fuelled by nothing but coffee and the wounds sustained from Civil War, I took matters into my own hands by sending Tony back in time and giving him a second chance at life. Looking back, those had been simpler times.

It was May 2018 when I began writing Renew. Back then I had planned for it to be the last instalment, with the possible addition of one-shots in the future. Now here we stand, at the precipice of phase four, with another bleeding wound, but this time, it wasn’t from Civil War.

I suppose it had always been too much to ask of the MCU to do right by Tony. I have seen a lot of people expressing contentment over Tony’s arc, and to some extent, I agree with them. It was a noble end, a hero’s end. The ring of Tony’s actions will echo well beyond the end of phase four and leave a lasting impact in the hearts of many. If there had been one way for him to go, that would’ve been it.

But is it the end I want for him? No. Never.

For a decade I have seen him on the silver screen. I have followed his journey, witnessed his struggles, experienced his pain. When I lost him, it felt like I had lost a dear friend. To me, Tony had nothing to prove, because we, who had been by his side since he fought out of that cave in Afghanistan, knew his worth.

Tragedy doesn’t mark a meaningful ending. An ending is meaningful because it completes the journey we have laughed, cried, and cheered for. If there was a single character who deserved a soft epilogue, it was Tony. Those who admired him wanted him to save the day, but those who loved him wanted him to come home.

So without further ado, hop on, strap in, and get ready for one last ride.

For Tony Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

The first sound Tony heard was one of shuffling pages. Thick parchment paper brushed against each other, revealing hidden knowledge. The sound was gentle, its rhythm slow and soothing, but nonetheless reminded Tony of a world beyond his rested body. Tony was in no hurry to return to that world. His limbs were light, and his head resting on a soft cloud. He sighed in contentment. One by one, Tony cracked open his lids. Long, scarred fingers supported a mystic tome. A pair of blue eyes glanced lazily over the text.

“We should make a new rule, no books in the bedroom.” Tony yawned and draped his flesh arm across the tome. His mechanical hand ran through his hair, taming the sleep-tussled locks.

Stephen looked at Tony and smiled. He left a bookmark between the pages, placed the tome on the bedside table, then slipped under the covers. The fingers that weaved ancient magic caressed Tony’s spine. “No use having rules if you don’t follow them.” Stephen finished by leaving a trail of kisses down Tony’s shoulder.

Tony chuckled as Stephen’s goatee tickled his skin. Now that they were both retired, they had no excuse to keep a messy sleeping schedule. As an ex-physician, Stephen insisted that they retired and rose equally early. He monitored their schedule with an iron fist, and Tony was all the better for it. Imagine that, Tony Stark, waking at the crack of dawn, well-rested. It was a miracle. Though Tony wasn’t known for his self-control. At times he’d still work a few hours past curfew, and on those days, he’d savour the morning sleep.

“I’ve been caught.” Tony splayed a hand over his chest. “Distraction it is.” He rolled on top of Stephen, pressing their lips together. Tony could never decipher why, but the sheer existence of Stephen excited him. Five years ago, it had seemed he’d lost everything. Each day he woke up next to Stephen was a gift. Tony treasured these moments. His hands explored his partner’s chest. When he had enough fun up top, he slid them downward. It was noon when they finally got dressed for the day.

“Anything on for the afternoon?” Tony asked as he took a sip of coffee. He unlocked his Stark pad and scrolled through the calendar. It was remarkably empty.

Stephen mirrored Tony’s movement. He scrolled through his tasks and paused when he saw one halfway down the list. Stephen sighed. He flipped his Stark pad to face Tony. “Might as well get it over and done with.” Tony glanced over the icon. It was an Eldritch Terror, an inter-dimensional being that fed on fear. It’d managed to slip through the Sanctum’s defences last week. Stephen had been too busy to deal with it since he banished it into the Mirror Dimension. Now that there was a lull, he couldn’t delay it any longer.

“Do you need help?” Tony bit into his sandwich. It was perfectly toasted, crunchy yet chewy. Over the years, Stephen had perfected his skill in the culinary arts. Thankfully, piloting the suit burned calories, or else his six pack would be in serious jeopardy.

“No, I’ll have Wong. Stay in the tower, the kid’s coming today.”

“Oh, it’s Wednesday, time flies.”

Stephen hummed in response. They finished their lunch in comfortable silence. Tony watched Stephen switch from loungewear to sorcerer robes with a flick of his wrist. The Cloak of Levitation landed on Stephen’s shoulder. The sentient relic waved Tony goodbye as Stephen stepped through an amber ring of sparks.

Tony returned to his Stark pad. Five years was a long time, more than enough for him to slowly transition from leading the Avengers. The stream of infinite tasks had been divided between other capable individuals, and as Pepper faithfully oversaw Stark Industries, all Tony needed to do was spearhead his tech division. He still tinkered with the suit. That was no longer required of him, but Tony didn’t think he’d ever stop. He was Iron Man. He and the suit were one.

Tony trekked down to the workshop, passing Bruce along the way. The radio physicist was conducting another experiment on Gamma radiation. They exchanged nods as Tony strolled by. Jarvis greeted Tony as he unlocked his workbench. He reviewed the Avengers’ quarterly expenses until Peter swung by.

“Hi, Tony!” Peter greeted with his usual optimism. He was wearing his fabric suit, his hair tousled from having removed his mask. The Iron Spider had received ample upgrades since Peter first wore it to battle, but the first suit Tony gifted him would always be his favourite. Tony suspected it had something to do with nostalgia, but Peter insisted it was because he’d mastered the suit’s functionality. Peter saved the armour for dangerous missions, but otherwise wore his red and blue one daily.

“Hey kid. What’d you wanna work on today?” Tony turned off his workbench. He was seeing doubles from all the numbers.

“Target practice.” Peter hooked his bag on the clothes rack. Tony laughed; of course that was what the kid chose. He walked up to Peter and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Gone were the days where Tony could complete the gesture with his elbow. Peter had grown taller than him over the course of university. He graduated from MIT last summer. To this day Tony refused to acknowledge he teared up at the ceremony. Tony could remember the first time he met the Spiderling like it was yesterday. Legally, Peter was already an adult, but he’d always remain a kid in Tony’s eyes.

They headed for the training room together, crossing the permanent portal that linked Stark Tower to the Avengers Compound. The compound was bustling with activity. Awed gasps filled the hallway at the sight of Tony. Junior members whispered among themselves. Peter beamed at the recognition Tony received. Tony curled his lips in a soft smile but paid them no mind.

Along the way, Peter updated Tony on recent missions. He was doing fine work as an official Avenger. Tony and Stephen had been discussing the possibility for some time. They believed in a few more years, Peter would be ready to fill the position Tony left vacant.

“Welcome, Mr. Stark,” the training AI greeted. Since his retirement, Tony had retracted Jarvis from the compound mainframe. It’d be a breeze for an AI of Jarvis’ level to do whatever he wanted, but some gestures were necessary for the public eye.

“Simulation: city centre,” Tony said. He shrugged off his jacket and doubled tapped on the arc reactor. Silver nanoparticles flowed up his torso, then down his arms and legs. Mark Eighty-five morphed seamlessly into existence. “Go easy on an old man?” Tony winked.

“No way! You kicked my ass last time.” Peter slipped on his mask. The compound had undergone several extensions since Tony’s time. Each training room was more than six stories tall. Blue pixels rendered an environment beyond the extent of the room. The simulation moved with them, so did the floor, but they must stay inside the outlined box or risk running into a wall.

The scenario was rush hour Manhattan, with pedestrians darting across the chaotic roads. Peter, as the Avenger of the scenario, must ensure minimum civilian casualty until the timer ran out, with bonus points for capturing the villain. Since it was rush hour, the number of panicked civilians tripled the simulation’s difficulty, which was why capturing the villain wasn’t the priority.

Despite the difficulty, Peter had long mastered the scenario. Heightened by his Spidey sense, both his reflexes and stamina were excellent. He gave Tony a run for his money, and Tony couldn’t be more proud. For the first round of the afternoon, the duo took things slowly. Peter didn’t need the target practice; it was a way to spend more time together while doing something productive. He deflected Tony’s missile with impeccable aim, rescuing a trio of students. Tony resisted the urge to whistle and targeted a packed bus instead. Peter again countered the projectile. He was cheeky enough to launch a web grenade at Tony in return.

The grenade skilfully targeted his flank. Tony toyed with the kid by waiting until the last possible second to dodge. He twisted to the side, revelling in the kid’s gasp. Peter had thought his grenade stuck. He’d leapt for his next attack, leaving himself wide open. Tony aimed both repulsors at Peter. They had been calibrated for training and were set on the lowest energy output, enough to sting, but not nearly enough to injure.

The blast hit Peter square in the chest. He tumbled to the ground. Normally, Tony would never wait until he got back up, real-life villains didn’t, but the sight of seeing the kid down did something unspeakable to his mind. A string of vivid images flashed before his eyes. Some were set in New York, then some on Titan. Peter jumped through a series of portals, his punches landing on a...

The images didn’t make sense. Tony knew both the location and the people, but they’d never visited Titan as a team. He and Thanos had fought alone. The conflicting information tore Tony’s mind in opposite directions. He snapped out of his trance, steadying himself before he fell out of the sky.

By now Peter had gotten back up. He shot another string of webs at Tony, which Tony barely managed to avoid. The images had left him light-headed. The sight of the young man before him layered on top of the kid in his memories. A web grenade landed on his flank. The force didn’t knock him out, but it displaced his mind from his body. His consciousness was siphoned into another reality.

Tony was in a ship. He felt weak, weaker than he’d ever been. His limbs were shrivelled, as if they were not his own. He was leaning on Nebula, who looked at him with worry. The ship’s latch opened. Steve stood at the bottom of the opening. He rushed up to help Tony. A surge of anger coursed through Tony’s veins, but he was too weak to shake Steve from his arm. The anger was replaced by a suffocating ache.

_I lost the kid._

The words that left his mouth pained his heart and soul. He’d never seen him again. It was his fault. He should’ve fought harder. He should’ve won.

“Tony!”

The shout pulled him from the debilitating pain. Tony’s eyes focused on a panicked face before him. He was resting on a blanket of webs that suspended him a few feet above ground. His faceplate had been retracted. Tony didn’t know what was going on, but his vision was blurry. His heartbeat quickened. A surge of unexplainable panic drowned him. Tony blacked out as Peter called for help.

 

 

\----------

 

 

Stephen crossed the sparkling threshold. The sanctum was quiet. He trod down the corridor, hearing nothing but the echoes of his footsteps. He searched the study, but the Master of the New York sanctum was nowhere to be found. Stephen sighed. Without a doubt, Wong was back at Kamar Taj again, preying on the poor sods foolish enough to break library rules. The new keeper of the books needed time to familiarise himself with the volumes. Wong often filled in for him. It was somewhat of a professional courtesy. Stephen admired Wong’s dedication to his old post, but it made discussing matters with him difficult.

Stephen supposed it couldn’t be helped. Kamar Taj, like the Avengers, was an organisation in need of both metaphysical and logistical guidance. A corporation couldn’t exist without a back-of-house. Those who disregarded the importance of logistics were the ones who never had to oversee anything.

As the latest of a long line of Sorcerer Supreme, Stephen’s role was made possible because a roster of staff managed Kamar Taj on his behalf. The Masters respected his vow to protect their reality, and in turn, Stephen respected their agency. Though truth be told he wasn’t overwhelmed with options. Stephen knew his strengths and weaknesses. His gift in the Mystic Arts was unparalleled, but unlike Tony, he had no passion for management. Compared to the alternative, Stephen was thankful that things were working.

Stephen returned to the entrance hall. He supposed he’d have to do it alone. It was a minor Terror. The sanctum had both external and internal defences. Stephen was confident he could contain the situation. With a spin of his hand, a portal to the Mirror Dimension appeared. A distant screech raised the hairs on the back of Stephen’s neck. Heavy footsteps shook the sanctum beyond the portal. Stephen steadied himself.

Across the amber ring that separated illusion from reality was a grand U-shaped staircase, identical to the one Stephen trod daily. Between the flights of steps, at ground level, was a hallway that led to the Rotunda of Gateways. A cluster of purple tentacles appeared from around the bend, then fur-clad claws, followed by a scaled stomach. The Eldritch Terror had large, webbed wings that struggled to open in the confinement of the hallway. It screeched at Stephen. The tentacles that’d replaced lips dripped saliva onto the parquet floor.

“Time to get this over with,” Stephen mumbled. He raised his left hand and drew circles in the air with his right. The Crimson Bands of Cyttorak erupted from his palm, locking the Terror in place. Stephen used his free hand to conjure the Sword of Vishanti. Having faced him once, the Terror knew what awaited a restrained foe. Before Stephen could dash forward, it threw its scaled body sideways, shattering the windows in the hallway. With a single flap of its expanded wings, the terror shot toward Stephen, who undid both his sword and bands in favour of raising a half shield.

The shield barely solidified in time. The Terror screeched again, this time inches from Stephen’s face. Its tentacles slapped at the glowing shield, coating Stephen with slime. Stephen resisted the urge to vomit and pushed back. For a time, sorcerer and monster were locked in a stalemate.

“Why is it that I always catch you in these…unfortunate situations?” a honeyed voice drawled.

Stephen craned his head to the side. Loki stood at the top of the steps, dressed in an emerald suit. He clutched a tome in one gloved hand and a cane in the other. His long, raven locks were slicked back. The not-so-young prince was the picture of regal snobbery. “Do you plan to help?” Stephen grunted through his teeth.

“That depends.” Loki wrinkled his nose. His eyes glanced over the fluids coating Stephen.

Stephen didn’t bother to ask the ‘on what’ of Loki’s answer. The tentacles belched, drenching Stephen from head to toe. Stephen shuddered at the wetness and tried not to think about the places the slime could’ve gone. He lowered his centre of gravity then pushed with all his might. The Terror backtracked. One step was all Stephen needed. He rolled to the side and summoned the Sword of Vishanti.

On the side of the Terror’s scaled stomach was a patch of sagging skin. It could only be seen when the Terror raised its arm. Stephen drove the flaming sword through the skin, then sliced upward. The Terror thrashed about, spilling entrails onto the floor. Stephen avoided the claw that tried to grab him and darted backward. The Terror struggled for a few more seconds, then flopped over, its webbed wings knocking over the Cauldron of the Cosmos. The caldron clanged loudly as it hit the floor.

Stephen wiped a handful of slime off his face. He looked to Loki, who surveyed him with one raised eyebrow. Stephen sighed and cleaned the cauldron with his cuffs. “I’m surprised Anthony hasn’t divorced you, yet,” Loki said as Stephen returned the cauldron to its stand. Only then did Loki descend the steps. His polished oxfords danced around the slime and entrails, coming to a stop before Stephen.

Under normal circumstances, Stephen would exchange quips with him until the end of time, but his mild obsession with cleanliness was screaming for a change of clothes. Stephen erected a barrier on the spot, banished his soiled robes, and summoned the Sacred Waves of Vishanti. When he was satisfied that every drop of slim was gone, he dried himself with the Winds of Watoomb. Within minutes, he was in a fresh set of sorcerer robes.

“My ancestors would roll in their graves if they saw you defile high magic like that,” Loki said.

“Something tells me that’d please you very much.” Stephen ran a hand through his wind-puffed hair. Loki returned an amused smile. He watched Stephen banish the mess.

“I hope you plan to check that out.” Stephen nudged his chin at the tome in Loki’s hand. Over the years, the library of Kamar Taj had imbued a magic tracker into every tome in the restricted section, which included the volumes only a Master could access, and the collection inherited by each Sorcerer Supreme. It allowed the librarian to monitor the tome’s location. Once deemed stolen, the tracker would self-destruct to ensure dangerous magic didn’t fall into the wrong hands. The tracker before Stephen was attempting to alert the active librarian. However, its signals were obscured by a clever deflection spell, which severed the tome’s link with Kamar Taj, but placated it at the same time so that it wouldn’t explode.

“Of course,” Loki said. Stephen crossed his arms. Loki’s smiled remained until it became apparent Stephen wasn’t about this let this slide. “Oh, how the years have robbed you of your humour.” Loki handed the tome to Stephen, who lifted the deflection spell and altered the status of the tracker.

“Wong’s been on edge lately. Don’t test him. I worked hard to get your access approved.” Stephen returned the tome to Loki. He made way for the study again, but a feeling indescribable stopped him in his tracks. Vivid images flashed before his eyes, Loki in a black suit. The Aesir stood in the sanctum next to his phantom brother, who phased in and out of existence. Something about these images didn’t feel right. Stephen sensed hostility between them, but they had been friends for years.

“Stephen?” Loki banished the tome to his pocket dimension. A wave of golden light washed over him, transforming his suit to Asgardian armour.

Stephen swayed to the side. Another bout of images struck him. This time there was a thunderous crash. A person fell through the sanctum’s roof. Stephen winced. He steadied his astral body and erected a barrier to counter telepathy. It didn’t help. Eventually, the images faded on their own.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked. He surveyed the hall, a dagger in each hand. “I sense no hostile magic. Have you been hexed?”

Stephen dug his fingers into the skin on his forehead. The pain cleared his muddled mind. He opened his mouth to speak, but a voice from his watch beat him to it.

“Doc, it’s an emergency,” Friday said. “Peter has asked that you return to the compound at once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Anew before Infinity War and Renew before Endgame. To be honest, I am shocked by how canon compliant my series is. Enouement will continue to work closely with canon and stay true to the MCU’s time travel rules: what is done in the past doesn’t change the future. We exist in a Multiverse, and Anew is what happened if Tony had died in Siberia.
> 
> This fic will update on every Sunday.
> 
> Comments are a writer’s motivation. Please read and review. ;D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

“Kid, I’m fine,” Tony repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. He padded to the drinks station and poured himself a cup of coffee, passing Bruce and Loki along the way.

Following their training fiasco, he’d blacked out for two hours. It had been a peaceful experience, shrouded by darkness. Tony felt the passage of time, but for reasons unknown, his mind had been severed from his body. He woke to a panicked Peter who’d alerted both the tower and the sanctum. According to Peter, one minute they had exchanged blows at their usual pace, then the next Tony fell out of the sky.

“Is that what we’re calling visions from the past now? Next time I’ll be fine too,” Peter said as he crossed his arms. The scans had shown Tony in optimal health, baffling the medics. Intangible threats that couldn’t be explained by the rules of physics ruffled Peter’s feathers. As Tony aged, Peter was beginning to enter his prime. He respected Tony, but at the same time remained fiercely protective of him.

Tony sighed. He wondered where Peter got that sass from. He switched his coffee to his mechanical hand and ruffled Peter’s hair. “Don’t worry kid. Your old man can take care of himself.”

Peter pursed his lips. His looked to the corner of the room, where Stephen hovered with his legs crossed. After Stephen had shared his own fleeting vision, he retrieved the Time Stone to investigate. The Eye of Agamotto was open. It latched two tendrils of magic onto each of Stephen’s wrist. Green light illuminated Stephen’s features from below, casting a blue shadow over his cheekbones. Time distorted in his presence. Stephen’s face morphed from one expression to the next. The imagery reminded Tony of a time he’d rather not. With growing unrest, he waited for Stephen to complete his search.

Stephen opened his eyes, and the last of the green faded from his iris. Peter stood from his seat, while Bruce and Loki converged around the conference table. “Did you find what was wrong?” Peter asked.

Stephen paused, then nodded grimly. His eyes locked with each member present, saving Tony for last. “Are you familiar with the Ship of Theseus?” Stephen asked Tony.

“Yeah, metaphysics of identity, thought experiment.” Tony’s reflex answered for him. He understood the complications as soon as he recalled the theory. “Don’t tell me…”

“Yeah.”

“Hold up, I don’t get it,” Peter said.

“The object in question is irrelevant to the subject, but suppose the great ship Theseus sailed into battle was kept as a museum piece,” Stephen explained. With a wave of his hand, an image of a shimmering ship appeared on the conference table. It beat against the tides, swaying from side to side. “Over time, parts of the ship would rot, and be replaced with new wood.” Miniaturised workers climbed onto the ship, prying split planks from its deck and nailing new ones in place. The sail was mended next, and then the mast, followed by the rudder and anchor. “After enough time has passed, every part would have been replaced. Is the ship still the same?”

The room was silent. Peter placed his fist under his chin and pondered Stephen’s question.

“Secondly, suppose that each part removed was stored in a warehouse,” Stephen continued. The scene moved from the harbour to an enclosure close by. “A spectacle occurs, and the rotting was magically cured.” Green waves pulsated over the decaying pieces, as if Stephen had reversed time with the Time Stone, straightening bowed wood and polishing rusted steel. “The parts are reassembled into a ship. Is this ship the same as the original? And if so, what of the ship in the harbour?”

Peter stared at the identical ships. “Why do I feel like there’s no correct answer?”

Stephen nodded. “This is the beginning of our problem. We are familiar with the Multiverse: a collection of alternate universes which share the same universal hierarchy. A step up from that is the Omniverse: the collection of every single Multiverse, dimension, and realm. There is no hierarchy between continuations in the Omniverse. Each reality is equally important. However, like the true original ship that Theseus sailed into battle, there is an order of existence in which some worlds predate others.”

Stephen turned to face Tony. “This is called an origin world. Each time we make a decision, possibilities splinter from the origin to create alternate timelines. The Multiverse we reside in did not exist until you made the decision to leave your old world. Likewise, your old world did not exist until I made the decision to resurrect you. This traces your journey to your birth world, the world in which you died in Siberia.”

“I think I need to sit down,” Bruce said. He lowered himself gingerly into a seat and considered the glowing ships. “But what does any of this have to do with us? The past is gone.”

“To us, it is, but to the Omniverse, it is not and never will be.” Stephen banished the identical ships, replacing it with branches of light to signify passing time. “Time is a linear line, but its movement is fluid. Timelines exist alongside each other as continuums that diverge and converge. Time is the road itself, and we are its travellers. A universe shaping event occurred in Siberia. There had been two outcomes. We know the one where Tony didn’t survive. As for the one he did, it presented the world with a fresh set of variables.”

“It had been possible for me to live?” Tony asked.

“Yes. In some of the outcomes, Rogers struck you a sliver above the centre of the arc reactor. The edge of his shield was stopped by the frame of the reactor, buying you enough time until rescue arrived.” Stephen highlighted the branch representing their current timeline, then backtracked until it reached a node where two branches converged, one to signify the timeline where Tony survived, and one to signify the timeline he didn’t, their origin point: Siberia. “Tony, you are now a time traveller thrice. You exist in four different realities, and not as incarnations, but _you_ , specifically. This weakens your bond with your current reality.”

“Are you saying these worlds are linked because of Tony?” Peter asked. He thought about it, then added: “because…because at some point, he physically existed in all of them?”

“Yes.” Stephen opened the Eye of Agamotto, filling the room with a green glow. “Time travel is forbidden. It defies the natural order and creates bridges across the Omniverse that should never exist. Tony, what we have seen is not our past or future, but echoes from another reality. The Eye has shown me the alternate timeline that is causing the echo. Five years after we defeated Thanos is a critical period for your origin universe. Your alternate self would do something so severe; it’d change the course of history forever.”

“Like what?” Tony’s question left his lips in a whisper.

“I don’t know.” Stephen shook his head. He closed the Eye of Agamotto. “I cannot see past my death. Thanos erased half the universe. It’s as far as I can go.”

“We lost? In the universe where I survived?” Tony scoffed. There could not have been greater irony.

“It seemed that way, but an echo so powerful, it’d ignore the barrier between worlds could only be caused by Infinity Stones. As it stands, the echoes are faint, manageable. It would only grow stronger until the world shaping event occurred.” Stephen took a deep breath.

Tony’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. “That bad, huh?”

“Do not underestimate the forces governing the Omniverse. Our world is unnatural, birthed by a set of Infinity Stones which defied those forces. It was ostracised further when you resurrected me through a loophole in the Soul Stone. The Omniverse is trying to correct itself. The echoes would strengthen until it grew into a siphon, assimilating you with your alternate self. You mustn’t give in to these visions. If you accept them as your true reality, you could end up back on Titan, or back at the Battle of Wakanda, or worse still, back in Siberia. Every change you’ve made would be undone. The world as we know it would never come to fruition.”

Bruce looked to Stephen, then to Tony, then to the Infinity Stone on Stephen’s chest. He said nothing. It was as if the remnants of their worst nightmare had finally caught up to them. Tony’s chest tightened, squeezing the air from his lungs. Conflicting emotions tore at his mind. Half of his heart was frozen by a deep chill, cold like Siberian snow. The other half was burning with a raging inferno.

“There must be something we can do, right Tony?” Peter turned to face Tony, but the expression on Tony’s face made him swallow his next words.

Tony stopped his flesh hand from shaking by pressing it against the arc reactor. The cool metal reminded him of who he was and how far he’d come. The past five years he spent with Stephen had been the best of his life. Tony wouldn’t do a thing to change it. He was no expert on time travel, but he knew one thing for certain: he’d earned these years. To live the life he had, he travelled to the literal end of the world and back. Gods, monsters, aliens, the universe itself, nothing was going to destroy the happiness he worked so hard for.

_Nothing._

Loki smiled at Tony. “The fighting spirit is very much alive I see.” He rounded the table, placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder then exchanged nods with Stephen. “Anthony is the reason our reality exists. It is only logical for him to become the nexus which links the recipients of the echo.”

“Recipients, as in plural,” Tony said.

“Three, to be exact.” Loki picked up Tony’s Stark pad. He projected Tony and Stephen’s file onto the conference table. Their holographic busts were connected by a black tendril. “The sanctum captured the signature of the echo. Once we could identify it, it was easy to predict where the next would land. These echoes preferred beings imbued with power. Their life force was stronger. With Anthony as the nexus, they chose two more whose destiny had been altered most significantly. Stephen was the obvious candidate.”

“Who’s the third?” Tony asked.

Loki glanced over the files on the conference table. After a pause, he sighed and rolled his eyes.

 

 

\----------

 

 

The grasses were soft under Loki’s boot, and the stalks he hadn’t stepped on ticklish against his calf. Loki marched through the green field, inhaling the scent of spring. A tour bus raced down the road to his right. It pumped black exhaust into the air. Loki veered from his path until he could see the road no more.

No one maintained these outskirts, leaving nature to cycle undisturbed. Loki ran his fingers through a cluster of small, white flowers, then allowed them to slip from his grasp. He marched until he reached the edge of the cliff. From his vantage point, the entire town was visible.

New Asgard was built on a grass field near the sea. Squat single and double storey houses peppered a grid of bluestone roads. Trees that were beginning to mature beckoned to the traveller like green torches. Some of his people had brought seeds from his homeland. They planted them along the roads, on window sills, and in back gardens. The familiar flora inspired more than a sense of comfort.

New Asgard resembled none of its predecessor’s grandeur, but after months adrift in the cold void of space, his people had been thankful for a place to call their own. Loki trod down the winding path he’d carved into the cliff face. He enjoyed the quietness here. It elevated him from the mundane bustles of village life. He’d stay longer, but he had pressing matters at hand.

The town square was a small clearing, located in the centre of New Asgard. Framing it to the east was the freshly minted royal palace. In direct contrast to its name, the palace likened their old servant’s quarter more than it did its namesake. Loki supposed it fitted the scene. The palace was the only three storied building in town. As King, Thor occupied a corner of the palace, which doubled as a museum and his place of governance. It was the town’s most popular attraction. The tour bus from earlier drove around the bend. They must’ve stopped by the apothecary first. The babbling band of mortals rushed out of the bus. Loki cast a glamour on himself to avoid being seen. The mortals converged before the palace. An Aesir awaited them at the bottom of the steps.

“Welcome, friends!” Thor boomed. He wore his usual armour, with silver scales for sleeves and a flowing red cape. His once cropped hair had returned to a mid-length braid. Thor had grown out his beard over the years. He braided them according to Asgardian tradition on the days they had visitors.

The band of mortals gushed over his idiot brother. Loki swallowed a spike of annoyance. They were Asgardians, gods among men, not a troop of monkeys who’d been taught to spin and jump. Shame he’d promised to behave. It had been this or hulling buckets of fish from the sea.

Thor ushered the group into the palace. Loki had no inclination for entertaining mortals, so he removed the glamour and padded to the centre of the square. There laid the single monument that verged on the brink of Loki’s of tolerance. It was a bronze statue of the original Asgard, courtesy of Stark Industries. On the day New Asgard was recognised as an official town of Norway, Anthony had asked them what piece they’d like for the town square. Loki had assumed Thor would opt for something uninspired like a fountain or a statue of Odin. To his surprise, Thor had chosen this instead.

Despite the difficulty, Anthony had worked with their memories of Asgard and distilled their homeland into a miniaturised model. Markers had been etched into the buildings, explaining the points of interest. Loki ran his fingers down the bronze legend, brushing past a chapter on architecture, a chapter on magical artefacts, and a chapter on mythological creatures.

Loki studied the palace. Not the pale imitation behind him, but the bronze spectacle of his childhood. If he closed his eyes, he could see the golden pillars soar toward the sky. Wide balconies bridged the gap between the pillars. His mother had taught him magic on those balconies. A young Thor, barely having lived his first decade, trained on the courtyard below. The dull sound of blade striking wood repeated. His mother whispered words of encouragement as green light danced on his fingers.

Loki opened his eyes. Before him, the burning orb that was Earth’s sun touched the horizon, igniting the palace with a golden tint. The sun might set on the old, but tomorrow it would rise on the new.

“Brother!” Loki jumped at the sound. He whipped around and spun into a crushing hug. “Everyone, this is my brother, Loki. I’m sure you all know him,” Thor explained to another group of mortals.

Loki cursed beneath his breath. He’d forgotten that on slow days, Thor didn’t oversee the entire tour. He’d open with the introduction, then take the finishing group from Brunnhilde to conclude. He was the Protector of the Nine Realms, and routinely left Earth for peace keeping missions. The Valkyrie had been appointed as the main guide. Thor helped on the days he was here, but neither Brunnhilde nor Loki trusted him to relay the dense portion of their history correctly.

Locked in place by Thor’s log-like arms, Loki had no choice but to answer a few questions. Thor proposed they take a group photo, which Loki reluctantly posed for. Despite doing close to nothing, he was thanked by the group as they boarded the bus. Thor waved them goodbye as the bus drove into the distance.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” Thor said. “You should consider becoming a guide. We’ve received a lot of requests to see you.”

“I’d like to preserve my remaining shred of dignity.” Loki took in Thor’s features. His brother had not aged a day since they laid the foundations of New Asgard. His eyes gleamed with new hope. That light had been absent since the destruction of their homeland. For the universe to choose him as a recipient of the echo, his fate must be significantly altered. Loki wondered what became of Thor in Anthony’s old world.

“What’s the matter?” Thor’s smile slowly faded from his lips. Loki told him the day’s events. His brother raised his hand. Stormbreaker flew from the palace. Thor stopped the war axe, then swung it in a wide arc, slicing the air before him. Electricity crackled on his armour. His eyes glowed with the force of lightning. “To war, then.”

“Not so fast, you oaf. Do you plan to fist-fight the barriers of time and space? The Avengers are searching for a solution as we speak. I came to warn you of the effects.”

Thor nodded. “Worry not, brother. I’ve experienced my share of visions. This shall be no different.” The electricity waned. Thor surveyed the square. The sun had set completely, leaving the square to bask in the glow of twilight. Eventually, that too would fade. “Come, tomorrow we shall return to New York, but tonight, Korg and Miek have cooked up a feast!”

Thor swung Stormbreaker over his shoulder then made way for the palace. Loki stood rooted to his spot. A group of Asgardians passed him by. They discussed the day’s work, eager to return home to their families. Almost every survivor of Ragnarök had lost loved ones. It was not uncommon for entire bloodlines to vanish. Sometimes all that’d be left behind was a lone and frightened child. Loki supposed he should be thankful. At least he still had one oaf left to call his own.

“Brother?” Thor called.

Loki shook the thought from his head. The God of Mischief, content? Contentment was not in his nature. Loki caught up to Thor with wide steps. Tonight, they would feast. Tomorrow, they march to yet another battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this struck me the other day: why on god's green Earth didn't Thor, Rocket, Nebula, and Rhodey go to Knowhere to take both the Power *and* Reality Stone from the Collector, as the Guardians were dropping it off in 2014? Thor: the Dark World took place before GotG 1. Thor obviously knew where he hid the Aether, and Rocket had been in the room when he, Quill, Groot and Gamora dropped it off in 2014. They would've had double the manpower and maybe Nebula wouldn't have fallen into Thanos' hands.
> 
> Edit 13/05/2019: 
> 
> I've realised that I should probably elaborate on my reasoning. Get ready for a lengthy explanation on why M&M's chosen time travel moments made no logical sense, and existed purely for the sake of fan service, creating so much more grief for the team than what was necessary.
> 
> First of all, if I were the Avengers, and I only had one shot at saving the universe, I'd create a detailed timeline of each stone's whereabouts over the years, from the first known moment to the last. For example, the Tesseract would look something like this: 
> 
> 1942 John Schmidt (Hydra) -> 1945 Arctic waters -> 1945 Howard Stark (Shield) -> 2012 Loki -> 2012 Stark Tower -> 2012 Asgard -> 2017 Loki -> 2018 Thanos
> 
> Now obviously the real version would be broken down to months, then days, but you guys get my point. There's no excuse not to utilise every last sliver of knowledge that each remaining Avenger had. 
> 
> There are two ways the team could approach recovering the stones. The first being time travelling to the moments where the stones are kept together to hit multiple stones with one jump, or travelling to the moments with minimal danger to ensure the recovery of each stone. 
> 
> Regardless of what I would choose (*cough* second *cough*), the film chose the first approach, which is understandable, because watching Iron Man fish out the Tesseract from the Arctic Ocean then be home before lunch made for a very dull cinematic experience. We also know they didn’t go with the safe option because boy oh boy, had there been a better way to retrieve the Time Stone. Throughout the whole movie, Wong had been ghosted, but why? We know he wasn’t dusted. The man worked at the Kamar Taj library, the place where the Time Stone had been kept for who knows how many years until the events of Dr Strange. Instead of sending the Hulk to the New York Sanctum, where the Time Stone may or may not be. Why didn’t they just send Wong to his workplace and grab the necklace that had been gathering dust on top of a stand? 
> 
> (And while I’m at it. Why didn’t Nebula warn the team of what it took to get the Soul Stone? You don’t know? Me neither buddy.)
> 
> Now a few readers have suggested they left the Collector alone because it made for a harder hit, but continuing the logic of why they chose New York 2012, it simply made sense to also go for the Collector. They only needed five seconds to grab the stones, and they didn’t need to wait until the Collector’s assistant exploded. Rhodey and Nebula could’ve ambushed Quill as he stepped off the Milano, before the Guardians met with the Collector, while the others went for the Aether. The important thing was keeping together so one group had backup should they need it.
> 
> The safe approach or the interesting approach. Choose one or the other for consistent planning. I would let it slide if they got the best of both worlds but they somehow managed to grab the worst of both.
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

It was midnight. Tony sat alone at the conference table, drained from the day’s events. He pinched the bridge of his nose, then stared at the holographic bust of himself, Stephen, and Thor. Two black tendrils emerged from his hologram’s chest, connecting the three busts.

Stephen was in the next room, reviewing their original timeline yet again. He’d requested time alone for total concentration. They had to hurry. Despite not having an obvious way forward, they must come up with a solution before the critical event in Tony’s origin world. It was hard to pin-point the date, but according to Stephen, the visions would increase in frequency as the event neared. To buy the team time, as well as to ensure the integrity of their current timeline, the recipients of the echo mustn’t be synced by it. Loki had gone to retrieve Thor. They had luck on their side that the Protector of the Nine Realms was home.

Tony slid his index finger over the controls. Three more busts appeared on the table. They were what Stephen and Loki called second tier nodes. The three branched from the original candidates. It was the Omniverse’s way of spreading the echo after it had gained a foothold.

Starting from the left was the God of Mischief himself. Tony supposed Loki was the next logical candidate. Considering how he’d altered the fate of Thor, it wasn’t farfetched to think he’d also alter the fate of his brother. Loki had become a frequent visitor of the sanctum. He and Stephen shared a deep bond; one only magic users of a similar level could develop. Tony was happy to see the once lonesome Aesir find a friend in his partner. They often kept him for dinner and might even be responsible for the trickster mellowing over the years. Loki was still not above poisoning the beverages of those he despised, but at least he no longer defaulted to genocide as his first resort. Celebrate the small steps, right?

In the middle was the boy Tony considered the best of them all. Peter’s chestnut hair had been combed back for the photo. Compared to five years ago, his features were more defined, sharp, even. He’d lost the last of his chubbiness to the stress of avenging. It was amazing how much he’d grown. Peter had reached many milestones over the past five years. Graduating from MIT, completing his first solo mission, going on his first date… Tony had been there with him every step of the way.

He’d instructed Peter to swing by their favourite Chinese restaurant for take-out half an hour ago. He could’ve ordered delivery, but he’d wanted Peter to grab some fresh air. With no one official at the Avenger’s helm, Peter was feeling the pressure. Unlike Harley, who split his time between the Avengers and running his own company, Peter frequented the compound and treated it like his second home. As one of the two protégées of Iron Man, the young Avengers instinctively came to him for help.

Truth be told, Tony had hesitated when he screened the candidates for leadership. Peter had been the obvious choice, with his cleverness, determination, and heart of gold. He was entering his prime and had decades of service left in him. Youth was his biggest advantage; conversely it had also been the factor that held Tony back.

Tony was thirty-eight when he built Iron Man. Not counting the years he’d spent reliving his past life, he had been on active duty for a grand total of ten years. One measly decade, yet during that time he had managed to endanger every single person he loved. He’d sustained more injuries than he should’ve walked away from, and during his final mission, he’d lost his left arm.

Tony didn’t want that for Peter, a life of repeating injuries, pain, and loss. The boy had so many bright years ahead of him. He could accomplish so many things. Tony wanted him to experience the joys of life. To see him mature, marry, and start his own family. But at the end of the day, it wasn’t about what Tony wanted. It was about Peter, and the boy wanted to protect the fragile, blue planet that they call home.

To the right of the boy Tony could envision with his eyes closed spun a bust less familiar. Time had been kind to Steve, leaving nothing but faint creases on the corner of his eyes. Following the events of Tony’s past life, they’d never become close. Tony supposed it was a good thing. He and Steve simply didn’t click. They might both act in the world’s best interest, but the way they approached things were different on principle. Steve was an Avenger to the core. He believed in liberty and acted only when things verged on the brink of too late. Tony was a futurist. If he could predict bad things happening, he acted years in advance. What good was liberty when they people they fought for were dead at their feet?

He and Steve functioned fine as colleagues. Tony invited him to all the celebrations but steered clear of having him over on pasta nights. Stephen never warmed up to him either. The Sorcerer Supreme was both stubborn and consistent with his treatment of the original consultants. Not that it mattered now. They were both retired. Tony took in the cloud of black particles on Loki, Peter, and Steve’s chest. Like a disease, the link was beginning to spread. Soon the next three would form a link with Tony and began receiving visions too. They must stop this before it was too late.

Tony stared at Steve’s familiar, but foreign features. A wave of nausea washed over him. Tony blinked, and the holographic bust came to life. The face he so rarely saw in person enlarged until it became a towering man. Tony was sitting behind the same desk, but this time, the room was filled with people. Photos cycled on top of the conference table. Steve, Rocket, Rhodey, and Natasha were with him. A woman whom Tony had never met stood opposite him.

 _It’s been twenty-three days since Thanos came to Earth,_ Steve said. His voice was groggy, like the room was filled with water. The sound phased through the liquid, gaining a deep and muddled quality.

 _World governments are in pieces,_ Natasha said as she studied the photos of the dead. Her blonde hair was jarringly bright. _The parts that are still working are trying to take a consensus. And it looks like he did…he did exactly what he said he was going to do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent of all living creatures._

 _What’s wrong with him?_ Tony felt the sound leave his throat. Thor sat alone in a meeting room with the door closed. Behind the glass wall, his orange eye reflected an unnatural sheen.

 _He’s pissed. Thinks he failed. Which, of course he did, but you know, there’s a lot of that going around, ain’t there?_ Rocket jumped to answer. He looked smaller than Tony remembered, or perhaps that was his hunched shoulders playing tricks with Tony’s mind.

_Honestly, at this exact second, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear._

_Maybe I am._

Tony and Rocket quipped like they always did, but it wasn’t the same. The pain in his chest numbed his limbs. Tony wanted to check the arc reactor, to see if it was malfunctioning, but instead his hand reached up to push his glasses firmly in place.

Mask on.

 _We’ve been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep space scans, and satellites, and we got nothing. Tony, you fought him._ Steve turned to him, his face stern with expectations.

The pain twisted into a blistering heat. It burned him from the inside out, igniting him like a pile of collapsed wood shavings. _Who told you that? I didn’t fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while a Bleecker Street magician gave away the stone. That’s what happened. There was no fight._

Steve nodded, as if to placate him. _Okay. Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?_

Tony’s muscles quivered like the shavings that trembled in tune to the force of the flame. Blood pumped through his tightened veins. His pulse throbbed in his ear. _I saw this coming a few years back. I had a vision, but I didn’t want to believe it. Thought I was dreaming._

 _Tony, I’m going to need you to focus_.

 _And I needed you. As in past-tense. That trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy. Sorry._ Tony looked at the man that had somehow become synonymous with this feverish state. He took in Steve’s face, the face that hadn’t aged in years. For all his life, he’d never seen a face more despicable. Enemies may cut, but friends; friends took a spike and drove it deep inside his heart. They nailed him to his coffin then closed the lid. Tony stood. He ripped the IV from his arm and surveyed the room of sorry fools. _You know what I need? I need a shave. And I believe I remember telling you this…_

 _Tony, Tony, Tony…_ Rhodey mumbled his name. Like the others, he wanted Tony to calm down, but Tony was past that now. He had been told to back down since Ultron. He listened. That had taken him here.

This time Tony would not back down. He took a step forward and raised his voice _…why that otherwise, that what we needed was a suit of armour around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedom or not, that was what we needed._

 _Well, that didn’t work out, did it?_ Steve had the audacity to counter, like he had been anything but deadweight since the events of Ultron, a spike in Tony’s heart that debilitated him, but wouldn’t quite kill him.

He looked into Steve’s eyes. A speck of green marred the otherwise perfect blue iris. _I said we would lose. You said, ‘we’ll do that together, too.’ Guess what, Cap? We lost. You weren’t there. But that’s what we do, right? Our best work after-the-fact? We’re the A-vengers, not the Pre-vengers, right?_

Rhodey walked up to him. _Okay, you made your point. Just sit down, okay?_

 _Okay. No, no, here’s my…She’s great, by the way. We need you. You’re new blood._ Tony stumbled past the unfamiliar woman. Memories came back to him. Danvers. Her name was Danvers. _Bunch of tired old wheels…_

 _Just sit down_. Rhodey tried again.

The sting that had been coiling tighter and tighter since as long as he could remember snapped. No, he would not be silenced. Not this time. Not after he’d put everything on the line and lost. He ignored Rhodey’s plea and walked up to Steve, the man he’d tried to forgive, but couldn’t. He gazed into those blue eyes and regretted everything he’d ever done for him.

 _I got nothing for you, Cap,_ Tony spat, his voice filled with venom. Tony did nothing to quell his anger. All the things he wanted to say, he said them. _I’ve got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero, zip, nada. No trust. **Liar.**_

The word was morphine for his soul. He’d muttered it over and over again in the days that followed the Accords. It was the shadow that haunted him in the depth of the night. It was the echo inside his head when he stared Thanos in the face. It was the lump in his throat when Peter crumbled apart in his arms.

 ** _Liar._** How could Tony have ever trusted him?

With morbid satisfaction, Tony ripped the arc reactor off his chest. This was it. He was out. He’d given the fight everything he had and lost. There was nothing more he could give, not to his ‘team’ and not to the world. Tony shoved the broken reactor in Steve’s hand. _Here, take this. You find him and you put that on. You hide_ —

A surge of weakness overwhelmed him. His world spun. Tony opened his eyes. He was in the conference room, but the others had gone. The black mass on his holographic bust had multiplied. Dark particles clouded his face. Tony sagged against his seat, wetting the back of his shirt with cold sweat. He tugged at his hair then breathed deeply, trying to dispel the horror from his body. The lingering fear refused to disperse. Tony buried his face in his hands. With darkness came visions. He and the Guardians lay battered on the remains of Titan. Peter’s flaking face, his desperate hug, his dying plea. Stephen disintegrating before his eyes—

Tony screamed. He sprung from his seat, grabbed the first thing he could reach and threw it at his hologram. His mug pierced the black mass on his chest and hit the far wall, shattering on impact. Tony swept his arms across the table, sending pens, tablets, and notebooks flying. He tumbled to the floor, knocking his chair over in the process.

No. This couldn’t be happening. Why did they lose again? Was destruction inevitable? Why was he again the one left behind? Peter—Stephen—

“Tony!” A youthful voice sliced through the air. Tony felt hands on his shoulder. He looked up. Through the wetness in his eyes and the nausea spinning his mind, was Peter. There was something different about his face. He looked older. That was right. He was an official Avenger now. He’d graduated MIT. Stephen was in the next room. They’d spent the past five years together in retirement.

“Tony, are you alright? Jarvis, vitals!” Peter yelled.

Tony hushed him. He leaned his head against the young man’s shoulder as Jarvis attempted to diagnose him.

This was his reality. He had to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about some angst to spice up your Sunday afternoon?
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

_You let me die_.

Stephen had heard those words before, five years ago. The Mad Titan’s laughter had rung in his ears. All hope had seemed lost. In his vision, Tony fought Thanos from across the battlefield, armed with nothing but a self-made suit of armour. A man in a can, going head to toe with the most powerful being in the universe.

Tony lost. All of them lost. Stephen remembered the redness of the blade that pierced Tony’s body. He remembered so vividly, he could feel it slice through his own, splitting his heart in half.

It was nothing compared to the pain in his chest now.

Stephen’s counterpart left the Eye’s influence. The world spun around him. He stumbled and fell. A pair of steady hands caught him. His counterpart looked to Tony, who’d dashed across the wreckage of Titan. They barely knew each other and yet the man leapt to his rescue. That was the way Tony operated, wasn’t it? He pretended like he didn’t care, but behind a mask of sarcasm was a man who cared so deeply, he’d give his life so others could live. Why did it have to be him? It should’ve been anyone else.

Stephen’s astral projection hovered inside his counterpart, who’d viewed fourteen million six hundred and five alternate timelines and found the one way to succeed. Viewing timelines were easy. It was akin to seeing a movie on fast forward. Stephen had done it countless times. But to go a layer deeper, to see what his counterpart saw, to feel what his counterpart felt…that was a slippery slope.

He’d warned Tony against assimilating with his alternate self. If he accepted another universe as reality, then he’d never return to his own, but he needed the information inside his counterpart’s brain. This was the world that was causing the echoes. He needed to know the outcome of the future where only half the universe lived.

Stephen fought the pain that numbed his mind. None of it was real. Except everything was. This future had come to pass. Everything he had seen happened in Tony’s origin world. His counterpart had pushed them toward the future where they won. Oh, they would win, alright, but at what cost?

He was sending Tony to his death.

Another spike of pain nailed him in place. Stephen ripped his astral projection from his counterpart’s body. As the Guardians asked about the vision, Stephen fled from Titan. He darted across the void between the Multiverses and almost couldn’t find his own.

The landing was rough. He had been floating cross-legged during his vision, and this time, there wasn’t a pair of hands to catch him. Stephen winced as he landed on his tailbone. He waited for the pain to pass, then fumbled to switch on his tablet. His nail scraped past the home key several times before his shaking finger unlocked it. Stephen checked the time and date, browsed the list of active Avengers, then made sure Friday was in his watch. When nothing was amiss, Stephen wrung the tablet until its frame twisted and its screen cracked.

Tony must live. He would not accept failure as fate. He lived in a Multiverse crafted by man.

There was no such thing as fate.

Stephen took a moment to gather himself. When his breathing returned to normal, he tossed aside the broken tablet. Stephen returned to the main conference space. Peter sat alone at the table. Containers of takeout were stacked neatly before him. Peter had opened one of them. He couldn’t have taken more than three bites. The young man poked his chopsticks into his rice and didn’t look up until Stephen sat beside him.

“Where’s Tony?” Stephen asked.

“Outside, getting some fresh air,” Peter said as he threw his single-use chopsticks into the bin one at a time. He closed the lid of his barely-touched food and leaned back in his chair. “He had another one of those…things. Saw all of us die.” Peter pursed his lips. “You know, the universe is being a real dick right now.”

Stephen smiled. “We’ll find a way to punch it in the teeth.”

Peter smiled back. It lacked his usual enthusiasm, but he would be alright. Stephen gave the young man a pat on the shoulder and left. He walked until he reached the compound’s front entrance. The air on the other side of the door was brisk. It smelled of grass and damp wood. Stephen breathed in the scent until his lungs could hold no more. After a few deep breaths, he peered beyond the retaining wall that elevated the top tier of the compound. Beyond it was the Hudson River. The winding waterway was silent and ink black. Stephen’s gaze lingered for a heartbeat. The retaining wall held.

Stephen found Tony sitting on the ledge of a planter, his frame dwarfed by the aged maple trees. Before Tony was a vast expanse of lawn. He stared at it as if he was seeing the remnants of a familiar ghost. “We really lucked out, huh?” Tony asked after Stephen didn’t speak up.

“Yeah, we did.” Stephen recalled the life they shared. The lazy mornings, the uneventful workdays, and the evenings spent with friends and family.

“A lot of people didn’t.”

“We can’t help everyone.” Stephen lowered himself on the planter. Tony had been sitting on his hands. Even with his weight on them, faint scratching noises came from beneath his legs. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Tony tore his gaze away from the lawn and looked up. A galaxy of stars dusted the clear night sky. Tony bit into his bottom lip. It took him a while to word his thoughts. Stephen didn’t rush him. “It’s just, it hurt so badly. They lost, Stephen. Half the universe, gone. Unlike us, they had no promise of salvation. I remember losing the kid. It stayed with me no matter how hard I tried to shake it loose. I’ve lost him for what, five minutes? My other self lived with that for five years.”

Tony pulled his hands free. He inspected his chrome hand. The red and gold nanotech was free of blemishes. He wrapped his flesh hand around Stephen’s. “I know it isn’t real, not here, but it is real for him. I don’t think we got together in my other timeline. The wormhole, Ultron, the Accords… He would’ve been all alone. I just wish we could’ve helped, you know? Make things better for him. Tell him it’s alright. He did the best he could.”

Stephen gave Tony’s hand a light squeeze. They had been fighting side by side since the very beginning. From the early days of Tony’s resurrection, to Stephen’s car accident, to battling the Chitauri, to bargaining with Dormammu, to ultimately stopping Thanos. It mattered not how strong their enemy was, their teamwork had been what pulled them through. Stephen tried to imagine protecting their reality alone. He shuddered at the implications. He’d saved himself from a world of pain by sending Tony back in time. He hadn’t known then, that the two of them would develop such a bond.

A spark tickled Stephen’s mind. It came and went, too quickly for Stephen to catch. Tony was engrossed in his own thoughts. Stephen circled his thumb over Tony’s knuckles and returned to the depth of his mind that had ignited the spark.

Each time he sent Tony back in time, he created an alternate branch in the timeline. Technically, he was not the person who had fought in the Battle of Wakanda. Somewhere in the Multiverse, there was a world where half the population had crumbled to dust, and Tony had disappeared after the spell on his engagement ring triggered, never to be seen again. Following a similar logic, the Stephen who had resurrected Tony years after the events of Siberia had also failed to protect his universe. Half of his world disappeared too.

Why didn’t those worlds affect theirs? The Infinity Stones existed. The snap happened. When their timeline re-entered the years when the snap should’ve occurred, why hadn’t there been echoes coming from those worlds? Perhaps those worlds no longer existed because Stephen had reversed time, but if time was a linear line and one could only progress forward, then the failed future was now their past, and the past their ongoing future. What had come to pass could never be truly erased.

Stephen looked to the man beside him. It was because of Tony. He was the physical bridge that linked their worlds, and only him using the Infinity Gauntlet would affect them. This meant that of the worlds Tony had existed in, he used the gauntlet in exactly two instances.

Once to create his current reality, and once to save his origin universe.

It was logical. Using the gauntlet was no child’s play, and unless there was an impending catastrophe, Tony would never be tempted to use an Infinity Stone, let alone don a complete set. Stephen wrapped his free hand around his chin and kept thinking. He was missing something critical. Stephen studied Tony’s form, his head of silver locks, and his chrome hand. He recalled what Tony had said.

_I just wish we could’ve helped, you know?_

“Tony…you are a genius,” Stephen breathed. Tony’s head snapped up, confusion filled his eyes. “The Omniverse isn’t trying to erase us. How could I have been so blind?” Stephen sprung from the planter. He ran for the lawn then flopped onto the dewy grass. The questions that had been bugging him since his first vision had been answered. Everything made sense.

“What did you figure out? Talk to me.” Tony followed him onto the grass. He pulled Stephen into a sitting position. Stephen tried his best to tame his giddiness of discovery.

“It’s deceptively simple. Due to you having existed in multiple timelines, there is a link which spans across them, or more specifically, a link which binds you to your earlier counterparts,” Stephen said.

“Yes, we’ve established that.”

“That’s all there is to it. A link, capable of transmitting power across the Omniverse. Imagine our worlds as lines, running parallel to each other. The link temporarily skewers all the lines together at a specific point in time. If left unchecked, wielding the gauntlet will kill your counterpart. That energy will ripple across the Omniverse, affecting every timeline you exist in. It will be disastrous for you and the worlds you’ve shaped. I’ve assumed the echoes were a by-product of annihilation, but perhaps it’s a warning. Instead of trying to stop a force of nature, we should solve the root of the problem.”

Tony blinked blankly at Stephen. “And that would be?”

“You. Dead. Gauntlet. A combination of those.”

“You mean, we should save ‘me’…from dying while wielding the gauntlet.”

“Yes.” Stephen ran a hand down his face, wiping the dew from his goatee. He smoothed the wrinkles from his robes then made way for the compound.

Tony was hot on his tail. “Except how are we gonna do that? Have you forgotten that alternate me exists in an alternate _Multiverse?_ We are separated by the biggest divide unknown to man.” Stephen stopped in his tracks to looked Tony in the eye. He tapped on the arc reactor, then on the Eye of Agamotto. Colour drained from Tony’s face. “Don’t tell me… Stephen Strange, this isn’t a trip to Midtown deli for a ham and rye. I took a significant risk five years ago. I can’t roll the dice again.”

“There is no precedent for a power surge of this magnitude. If we do nothing, the blast will most certainly kill you—”

“I can accept that,” Tony said with his chin high and his eyes bright. “My work is done. The universe is safe. If my death will end the echoes and sever the link forever…”

Tony let his words trail off, but he’d made his point. The pain from earlier threatened to resurface. Stephen ground his back molars together. He forced himself to concentrate. Logic and reason: that was the only way to appeal to Tony. Stephen took time to consider his next words, carefully removing all traces of personal desire. “The echoes will gain strength as the power surge nears. The visions will become longer, more convincing. You know how difficult it is to endure them as they are.”

“We’ll manage. We’ve fought things tougher than bad acid trips.”

“But not on such a scale, and not with such dire consequences. There are three recipients now, soon there will be six. Continuing the trajectory, nine links will establish in a week’s time. If even one of us falters, the result can set off a chain reaction. Let me ask you this: how much do you trust Rogers?”

“I…” Tony opened his mouth. When no sound came out, he clamped it back shut.

Reminding Tony of the unpredictability of others had been a good move. Outside of his immediate family, Tony might have confidence in the Aesirs’ mental capabilities, but others, not so much. Stephen steeled his will and kept pushing. “Ultimately, we have no way to confirm the world would remain unchanged after your demise. As of this moment, we have time. Tony…can we afford to do nothing?”

Tony flinched as if the notion had dealt him a physical blow. He broke eye contact, looking to the side like he did when his mind struggled to formulate a comeback. Tony was so quick witted, moments like these rarely happened. Stephen could see the gears in his head turning. Tony bit into his tongue as his eyes darted around the place. He was weighing their chances.

Stephen was a bastard for wording his point like this. He’d drawn the parallel on purpose. The ex-leader of the Avengers had gone against his teammates to build Ultron. He’d prepped for Thanos when no one else believed the Mad Titan to be a threat. If there was one thing Tony couldn’t do, it was nothing.

“Come on, we don’t have all night,” Stephen hummed.

“Screw you, Stephanie.”

Stephen smirked. It wasn’t every day he could back Tony into a corner. To do nothing in the face of danger or take a calculated risk. When the outcome was clear for neither, Tony’s choice was obvious. “You freed Barnes from mind control, saved Peter’s uncle, Rhodes from his accident, just to name a few positive changes that’d impact said person’s life forever.” Stephen opened the door to the compound for Tony. The two of them trod down the corridor at a sluggish pace. Stephen gave Tony all the time he needed to think things through, but sprinkled in facts to support his claim. “It isn’t about you, or us. It’s about everyone. We have a world worth fighting for. Earth needs her best defender.”

Tony crossed his arms. “The rest of the stones are scattered across the universe.”

“Wakanda has the third. T’Challa is a phone call away.”

“Space and Reality—”

“Hidden by the Aesirs, both of whom are scheduled to arrive tomorrow.”

“The Guardians are off-world.”

“Quill gave you that tuna can for a reason, didn’t he?”

Tony pursed his lips. Stephen sighed and stepped into Tony’s personal space. “I know this is hard for you. I don’t want to gather the Infinity Stones again any more than you do, but this might be our only chance,” Stephen said.

“I don’t want to endanger you again, or anyone, for that matter.” Tony looked away.

Stephen bought his ringed hand up to Tony’s face. He traced Tony’s hairline, feeling the silvery brown locks glide past his fingers. They’d both lost each other before. He’d vowed to never let it happen again. “Sickness and health, joy and sorrow, hardship and ease, remember?”

Tony finally met him in the eyes. Those caramel orbs looked into Stephen’s soul. For a decade Tony had thrown himself at unbeatable odds. He hadn’t done it for material gains, hadn’t done it for fame or respect. He did it to protect their world, to protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves.

Tony had such a big heart. After all he’s been through, he didn’t deserve to die for someone else’s future. Lesser men had walked away with more. It wasn’t often that heroes got to live in the world they’d saved, but unlike most heroes, Tony had a team behind him. He had been fighting for the safety of others long enough. It was due time someone fought for him.

“Alright, I suppose I have one more trip left in me,” Tony said. The face that Stephen had committed to memory laughed. “Let’s go save my ass.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony is the epitome of self-help. ;D
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

Three tankards clashed mid-air. Mead spilled over the wooden brims, filling the mess hall with notes of clover and honey. Miek tripped over a grease smeared plate. The Sakaaran had tried to climb down the table after the toast. Thor laughed as he emptied the contents of his tankard. Brunnhilde poured him another.

Across the hall, Korg had gathered a sizable crowd. He stood on a podium of four plastic crates. The crates squeaked under the pressure of his rocky body. Korg addressed the crowd with swinging arms and a throaty giggle. He was reciting the speech he had drafted for the Grandmaster’s Contest of Champions again; the one he never got to deliver during his time in Sakaar.

Thor and Brunnhilde shared another toast, this time between themselves. He and his brother had stumbled upon Sakaar during their quest to gather the survivors of Asgard. To this day it remained unclear if they’d found them all. Thor often returned to the site of their ancestral home to see if more had returned. He found a few stragglers during the dozen odd trips, but as the years passed, it became clear that the people on Earth were all he had left.

Brunnhilde had been reluctant to join them, but after Thor told her about the condition of her people, the Valkyrie packed her bags without further protest. She still drunk herself blind on occasions, but she was getting better at staying sober. The mead they brewed from earthen grains had no effect on them. They drank it more for flavour. The taste of home soothed their battle-marred souls.

As they talked, a barmaid wove through the crowd. She bought Brunnhilde her special order, then brushed their arms together. The Valkyrie watched her return to the bar. She finished her mead with one swig and stood. Thor told her to have fun.

Alone and without a drinking companion, Thor searched his surroundings for Miek. He found him passed out under the table. Thor gave him a kick, but Miek was gone for the night. He watched Brunnhilde chat to the barmaid for a bit, the contents of his tankard no longer interested him.

Feeling eyes on him, Thor met his brother’s gaze across the chaos. Loki sat by himself in the corner of the mess hall. He had a tome propped open on his lap and an empty plate beside him. His brother never liked the noise. He opted to dine by himself on most nights he was home. It was rare for him to accept Thor’s invitation.

Thor stood and walked to the central firepit. Tonight’s roast was three whole sheep. The middle one still had some flesh on its bones. Thor took the communal knife and carved a plate for himself. He grabbed a roll of bread then approached his brother.

“You should eat more,” Thor said as he sat. Two clusters of energy muffed his brother’s ears. A silencing spell, if Thor’s time spent by his mother’s side hadn’t gone completely to waste. The energy dispersed with a wave of Loki’s hand. Thor didn’t repeat himself. He ripped the roll in half and gave Loki the bigger piece.

Loki eyed the bread with disinterest but accepted the offering. Thor stuffed his half of the roll with lamb. Asgardians didn’t enjoy meat like this, but he’d picked up a few habits from Earth. Thor took a big bite. Korg and Miek had done a fine job. The lamb skin was crispy, and the flesh tender. Volstagg would’ve finished an animal by himself.

Memories of the burly warrior drew the flavour from his snack. Thor quickly dropped the thought. His fallen friends would stay golden in his mind, but they had no place amidst a night of festivities. The feast had been held to celebrate the opening of the Athenaeum of New Asgard. The athenaeum held a modest collection, comprising of mostly donated volumes. Their remaining scholars were working to rescribe the lost books. They had been hesitant to pen historical or philosophical volumes going off memory alone. As king, Thor had convinced them that paraphrased culture was better than lost culture.

Like most things, the new athenaeum was but a shadow of its former self, and a faint one at that. Despite the setbacks, Thor was thankful for everything he had. Truly, and utterly thankful. He’d watched his homeland burn. His father had been slain before his eyes. His friends drew their dying breaths to protect him. They had perished so he could live on. Asgard had flourished on a history of conquest and bloodshed. Now they had a chance to rebuild, to start over. Thor swallowed back the bitterness. Asgard was not a place, but a people. As long as he was with his people, then perhaps he never lost his home at all.

“You, thinking? Maybe this is the end.” Loki picked up a thin slice of meat. He chewed slowly then took a reserved bite from his roll. At times, Thor wondered why it had taken him so long to notice the differences between them. The way they ate, the way they fought, the things they valued. Thor had taken every opportunity to change Loki, to nudge him toward the direction he wanted him to go, the direction he thought he should go. It was arrogant of him, to assume that his way was the best way, or that traits Asgardians valued were the only ones that mattered.

Asgard was a nation of warriors. It was on Earth that Loki finally found people he looked forward to seeing. He and Loki were bound by upbringing and not blood. Age might not bring wisdom, but it did bring experience. After all they’ve been through, perhaps differences were a good thing. It was fragile, bonds held together by superficial similarities.

“I’m right here.” Loki waved a hand in front of his face. Thor gave his brother a hug. “What goes on inside that thick skull remains a mystery,” Loki said as he stiffly waited for the hug to be over.

“It’s good to see you haven’t run off to god knows where.” Thor finished his roll with two large bites.

“We survived the Mad Titan gathering the Infinity Stones. Annihilation due to your lack of self-control would be tragic.” Loki closed the tome. He was paying close attention to Thor’s eyes.

“You fret! I promised I’d let you know when they start, haven’t I?” Thor waved off his brother’s concern. The last time he’d been plagued by visions was during the leadup to Ragnarök. True terror had been revealed to him then. How bad could it be…these dreams from another reality?

“If not now, it will most likely be tonight. Remember, the more real you believe the visions to be, the more real they become. You mustn’t forget who you are. I will not have Stephen and Anthony endure their share only for our front to come short,” Loki said sternly.

Thor couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. His brother was beginning to use the words ‘we’, ‘our’, and ‘us’ again. It reminded Thor of their youth, when they’d sneak out of the palace via secret tunnels to play on the streets. The guards would recognise them, and Thor would hold them back for Loki to escape. Loki would run without a backward glance, but at the end of the day, his brother always came back for him.

The two of them talked some more. Thor ordered another round of drinks. Before them, Korg passionately spun the benefits of revolution. It wasn’t until midnight that the feast ended. Thor returned to his chambers with a belly full of mead. He took a brief shower, during which he let loose his braids. As he got dressed, he noticed his reflection in the mirror. Thor flexed, nodding at his bulging six-pack. He walked to his bed and crawled under the covers. Sleep claimed him as soon as his head touched the pillow.

He could’ve slept for a second, or perhaps a lifetime. Thor felt a tug on his vest. Had he worn a vest to sleep? He tried to climb to his feet but couldn’t. It was as if a barrier had been erected between his mind and body, filtering the strength he could command. Thor craned his head up. A purple hand, larger than that of most breeds in the Nine Realms lifted him. The hand dragged him forward like a sack of grain. The collar of his vest choked him. Thor tugged against the hand but couldn’t shake its grip.

 _Dread it…run…destiny still arrives._ The owner of the hand mumbled. His voice was slow, as if it had to puncture an invisible veil to reach Thor’s ears.

 _You talk too much_. Thor heard himself say. The back of his throat tingled, and warm liquid pooled in his mouth. Thor tasted copper. The purple hand dropped him. A brief change in perspective revealed the face of his captor. Thanos, that bastard. Thor reached for Stormbreaker, but no weapon answered his call. Something nagged at the back of his mind. He had forgotten something important. What was it?

 _The Tesseract, or your brother’s head. I assume you have a preference?_ The veil thinned. Fresh words flowed into Thor’s ears, but this time crystal clear. Thanos raised the gauntlet. The Power Stone shone with a sinister aura, drawing infinite strength from the universe. Loki stood in the distance, held by the children of Thanos. Through the haze of purple light, his face was lit orange by the burning wreckage.

 _Oh, I do. Kill away_ , his brother said. Thor’s mind was slow to connect the words. His attempt to make sense of the situation was cut short by a searing pain. Thanos pressed the gauntlet against his temple, sending his consciousness reeling into a white abyss. Asgardian physique was tough, especially those with royal blood. Never in his life had Thor experienced pain so unrelenting. It was tearing his flesh apart, crushing his skull. Thor tried to channel his inner lightning, but his reserve had been bled dry.

 _Alright, stop!_ Loki yelled. The pain ebbed. It was then that Thor realised he had been screaming.

 _We don’t have the Tesseract. It was destroyed on Asgard_. Blood sputtered from his lips. Thor looked to Loki, whose eyes were wet. His brother looked away. A blue cube morphed into existence in his hand. Thor was overwhelmed by a pang of grief. Half of his people…slaughtered for a senseless artefact. _You really are the worst, brother._ Thor said it, and he’d meant it.

Loki’s gaze flicked to him. _I assure you, brother. The sun will shine on us again._

 _Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian._ Thanos’s eyes were trained on the Tesseract.

 _Well, for one thing, I’m not Asgardian._ His brother slowly raised the Tesseract into view. _And for another…we have a Hulk._

The ship trembled. A towering beast struck Thanos aside. Thor was tackled to the ground by his brother, narrowly missing the impact. The Tesseract landed with a gentle _clang_. In the distance, Hulk and Thanos traded punches. The Hulk was fighting a losing battle. Thanos lifted him over his head and threw the green giant to the ground, creating a large crater. Thanos was going for the killing blow. Thor shook Loki off him. He grabbed the nearest rod and struck the Thanos in the head. The Titan barely flinched.

Thanos looked at him as if he was a particularly annoying insect. A sabaton struck his stomach. The pointed end dug into his flesh, sending him spiralling backward. The pain immobilised him. Within a dismissive wave, Ebony Maw levitated chunks of metal, locking him in a kneeling position.

What happened next happened too quickly for Thor to comprehend. With the last of his strength, Heimdall summoned a ray of cosmic energy, temporarily mimicking the Bifrost. The Hulk disappeared in the ray. Thanos took the spear of Proxima Midnight, then sunk its tip into Heimdall’s heart.

 _You are going to die for that!_ Thor cried. He could do nothing but yell insults at his sworn enemy. His body was trapped, and his power drained. Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun, and now Heimdall… After his father journeyed to Valhalla, he became the Protector of the Nine Realms. Yet he couldn’t stop his sister. He couldn’t stop Thanos. He protected no one.

His mouth was sealed by a metal muzzle. Ebony Maw shushed him from the distance. The deformed humanoid brought the Tesseract before Thanos and kneeled. Thanos accepted his offering. He crushed the vessel that had contained the Space Stone for centuries. The blue gem flew toward an empty slot on his gauntlet. Power coursed through him, lighting up his veins. _There are two more stones on Earth. Find them, my children, and bring them to me on Titan_ , Thanos commanded.

 _Father, we will not fail you_ , Proxima Midnight said.

 _If I might interject._ A voice sounded before Thanos’ children could leave. Loki strolled into view.

Thor gasped beneath the muzzle. _Run, you fool._ His muted words did not reach his brother’s ears.

 _If you are going to Earth, you might want a guide_ , Loki said with his usual bravado, his voice steady unlike his shaking hands. _I do have a bit of experience in that arena._

If you consider failure experience? Thanos drawled. Corvus Glaive raised his weapon.

Loki ignored the glaive that was aimed at his heart. _I consider experience, experience._ When the Mad Titan said nothing, Loki slowly strolled toward him. _Almighty Thanos, I, Loki, Prince of Asgard, Odinson_ … Thor didn’t dare breath. His brother paused when he mentioned their father. Their gaze met across the bodies of their people. Loki’s eyes were wide with a glassy sheen. Terror bloomed in Thor’s heart. He knew that look. He’d seen it before on the Rainbow Bridge, and again on the black earth of Svartalfheim. Loki continued to advance. A dagger materialised in his hand.

 _No._ Thor pleaded. _Please, no…_

 _…the rightful King of Jotunheim, God of Mischief, do hereby pledge to you, my undying fidelity._ Loki lashed out. The tip of his dagger came within an inch of Thanos’ throat. His body was frozen by a blue light.

 _Undying?_ Thanos smirked. He grabbed Loki’s arm and wrenched it aside. His brother grunted at the pain. He looked so small compared to the towering Titan. _You should choose your words more carefully._ The Mad Titan closed his fist around Loki’s throat. Loki’s legs kicked at nothing as the air was choked from his lungs. Gagging noises escaped the Aesir that Thor called brother.

 _You…will never be…a god_. Loki forced out. His face was red from the lack of oxygen. His skin had taken on a blue tint. A soft snap made its way to Thor’s ears, one that would haunt him for the rest of his life. His brother’s head lolled to the side. The struggles stopped, and Loki’s limbs fell lifelessly to his side.

 _No!_ Thor yelled. The muzzle muffled his cry. He pulled against his restraints. They didn’t budge. Thanos walked to him with a mocking grin and dropped Loki before him. Blood flowed from his brother’s nostrils. Thor called to him. No one answered. His brother’s red eyes stared into the distance, static and unseeing.

Thanos raised the Infinity Gauntlet. A rush of purple energy fractured the ship. He activated the Space Stone, teleporting him and his children to safety. The power holding his restraints disappeared, and Thor could move again. He crawled to his brother’s side, clinging tightly to what was left of him. The ship crumbled apart. Amidst the explosions, someone whispered his name.

 _Why?_ Thor couldn’t see through the tears that welled in his eyes. He supposed it didn’t matter, his brother was dead. He’d watched Thanos do the unthinkable. But Loki was all he had left. Why?

The whisper grew stronger as his consciousness slipped into a black hole. Thor sat unmoving. He couldn’t fight it. He wasn’t strong enough. All the universe did was take and take and take. He and his brother had finally reconciled. They were going to rebuild on Earth. Things were finally going to be alright. Why?

_Thor!_

Someone shouted in his ear. Thor looked up. Through the destruction was a faint smidge of light. It didn’t blind like the Infinity Stones, didn’t burn like fire. The light was gentle and warm to the touch. He opened his eyes. Loki hovered above him with furrowed brows. His skin was pink, and his eyes green.

“What…where am I?” Thor asked.

“The palace, you oaf. You were late for breakfast, and I was wo—” Loki cut himself short. Thor reached up, touching the spot on Loki’s chest he’d touched a moment before. He looked to the side. Through the half-drawn curtains, a ray of yellow light peeked through. It pierced the darkness, landing on his face.

It was morning. The sun was up.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As one of the primary recipients, Thor will get more screen time than usual, alongside his brother of course. The next chapter will feature some MCU!Tony. ;D
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Family comes first for Tony, no matter who he forms it with. 
> 
> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

_Evening, unknown date, 2023 – Somewhere in the Multiverse…_

Tony turned on the faucet, pulling the extendable nozzle toward himself. Warm water ran over his fingers. He picked up a dirty plate and sprayed the porcelain clean with robotic movement. Systematic work was supposed to calm his mind. It didn’t. His fingers itched to return to the drawing board. Tony distracted himself by drying the plate instead of washing the rest; a bad move, since he’d forgotten to turn off the faucet. A jet of water struck him in the face. Tony blocked the jet with the plate then turned the faucet off.

He couldn’t get them out of his head, the visitors who had come uninvited after all this time.

Five years had passed since Thanos snapped his fingers and half the universe ceased to exist. At first, Tony had refused to accept reality like the rest of them. He wheeled himself to the lab as soon as he was out of ER, ignoring all protests. Since he no longer considered himself a part of the team, he refused to see any of the remaining Avengers. He worked away those early days and nights, trying feverishly to reverse the snap. It was no use. He ran thousands, no, millions of simulations, exhausted all possibilities.

Nine months ago, Tony called it quits officially. It didn’t feel right, to waste away his days when his wife and daughter longed for his company. They had gotten lucky. So many had lost everyone they’d ever loved to the Decimation. He and Pepper had been given a precious second chance. They got to start over. Tony wasn’t sure he deserved it, not after he lost…

Nope. Tony wasn’t going to go there. If he went there, then he would get neither sleep nor work done tonight. Tony snuck a peek over his shoulder. Pepper was reading in the lounge. Their daughter was nowhere to be seen, hopefully still in bed. With a careless wipe, Tony dried the plate and set it aside. The jet of water had struck the shelf above the sink, drenching the row of scotch tumblers. Tony froze when he saw the rest of the contents. Beside the tumblers were two framed photos. Tony’s hand reached past the photo of Howard, plucking the bigger frame from the shelf.

He wiped the water from the photo. Behind the glass, Tony of the past looked sternly at the camera. He had a hand on a certificate, which was held upside down. They had taken so many shots, the certificate must’ve flipped somewhere in between. A kid stood beside him, his hand on the other side of the certificate. The kid had a big smile on his face. Despite Tony’s desire to act serious, they had both reached behind each other’s back and gave the other bunny ears. Tony stared at the freezeframe in time, the boy’s name on his lips. Photos were cruel. They remind people too vividly of what they’d lost.

There was no use doing the dishes now. Tony dried himself and returned to his workbench. “I had a mild inspiration. Let’s see if it checks out. So…run one last sim before we pack it in for the night. This time in the shape of a Mobius strip, convert it please.” Tony’s fingers danced over the keypad. A hologram materialised above the workbench. Tony glimpsed at the statistics. They looked decent.

“Processing,” Friday said.

A number caught Tony’s eye. He enlarged a section of the hologram, then rotated it to give himself a better view. “Give me that item value, that particle factoring in spectral decomp. It might take a second.”

“Just a moment.”

“And don’t worry if it doesn’t pan out,” Tony said as he snuck a cracker into his mouth. “I’m just kinda—”

“Model rendered.”

Tony’s heart skipped several beats. The Mobius strip was constructed by thousands of tessellating triangle planes. The words _Model Successful_ was generated in bright red. Tony collapsed onto his chair. His chest was so full it might burst. His head felt light, reminding Tony that his brain needed oxygen. Tony took a deep breath. “Shit!” he wheezed.

“Shit…!” A cheery voice said. Tony turned at the soft giggle. Sitting at the bottom of the steps, outside his makeshift lab, was his little bundle of pride and joy.

“What are you doing up, little Miss?” Tony whispered. He held a finger up to his lips. If Pepper caught wind of their daughter swearing, he’d never hear the end of it.

Morgan looked at him through long, dark lashes. She was dressed in a set of matching pyjamas, with a flock of birds printed on it. His daughter smiled in mischief, looking pleased with herself. “ _Shit_ ,” she said again.

“Nope, we don’t say that. Only mommy says that word. She coined it. It belongs to her.”

“Why are you up?”

“Cause I have some important shit going on here, what do you think?” Tony couldn’t help himself. It just slipped out. Morgan looked at him with her little brows furrowed. “No. I got—I got something on my mind…” Tony let his words trail off. With the adrenalin ebbing, the weight of the discovery dawned on him. What would he do, now that he had this knowledge?

“Was it juice pops?” his daughter looked at him intently, then wiggled her body in anticipation.

“…sure was.” Tony smiled. He saw what the little Miss tried to do there. Never let it be said she wasn’t his daughter. “That’s extortion.” Tony went to Morgan, wrapping her hand in his. He led them away from his workshop. “Great minds think alike. Juice pops, exactly what was on…” Tony turned. The Mobius strip sat unmoving on the workbench. Its alluring glow beckoned for him to return. “…my mind.”

Tony took them to the kitchen. He grabbed a single juice pop, because he was an old man and didn’t need the extra calories. They shared it in Morgan’s room. She hadn’t wanted to go to sleep. Tony worked on his negotiation skills by convincing her that juice pops were better in bed.

“You done?” Tony asked. Morgan nodded. There was a small chunk of icicle left. Tony threw the rest into his mouth. A clean stick came out. “Now you are. Here, let me.” Tony wiped Morgan’s mouth clean with his sleeve, then ran his hand through her chestnut locks. “Okay, that face, goes there.” Tony wrapped his hand around Morgan’s face, pushing her back until her head landed on the pillow. Her smile was so wide, her cheeks pressed against his palm.

“Tell me a story,” Morgan said.

“A story…” Tony mused. “Once upon a time, little Morgan went to bed, the end.”

“That’s a horrible story,” his daughter said through a yawn.

“Come on, that was your favourite story!” Tony leaned forward and gave Morgan a kiss “I love you tons.”

“I love you three thousand.”

Warmth filled Tony’s heart. He took in Morgan’s little smile, her rosy cheeks, and her soft hair. He remembered the day he first held her in his arms. He had never been happier and more terrified in his life. From that moment forward, another life would depend on him. He remembered her tiny hand circling around his finger. A similar warmth had filled his heart then.

Tony lingered before his daughter’s bed. He could see himself reflected in Morgan’s eyes. He stayed until they began to droop close. He turned off the lamp and made way for the door. “Three thousand…that’s crazy,” Tony said as he looked back. Morgan was peering at him from under her blanket. “Go to bed, or I’ll sell all your toys. Night night!” With a threat they both knew he would never follow through, Tony closed the door to her room.

As he made his way down the steps, he saw that Pepper hadn’t budged from her spot in the lounge. The stairs led down the hallway then toward the front door. On one side of the floorboards was the hologram of the Mobius strip, and on the other, his wife.

Tony stared at the hologram. Time travel. Could he have finally cracked the code? The possibility wakened memories Tony had sealed into the deepest chasm of his mind. Five years ago, before the wizard found him in Central Park, Tony had experienced these… _visions_. He hadn’t told anyone, not even Pepper. How could he? After everything that went wrong with Ultron, a second round of visions would cost him the few friends he had left. On top of that, half of his then team had been exiled. Tony was the sole plinth that held up the Avengers. He couldn’t afford to appear unstable, so he kept his mouth shut and suffered in silence.

The visions had been _Strange_ , to say the least. Unlike the first vision, which was short and fleeting, the second round of visions lasted several days. It was almost as if Tony was seeing himself from another life. In that life, he and the wizard he would later meet were romantically involved. Thanos aside, it had been funny to entertain the notion. The wizard was insufferable in his world, but in the other, he was caring, charming, and dare Tony say, in love with him.

Wanda had shown him his worst nightmare. For the most part, the second round of visions was easier to swallow. Things took a steep dive downhill when Thanos showed up. Tony followed his alternate self as he sacrificed his fiancée, defeated the Mad Titan, and completed the Infinity Gauntlet. The knowledge had shown him a small ray of hope. If he followed the wizard, perhaps he’d be guided to the gauntlet in this life.

It worked, and they almost won. Sadly, almost wasn’t good enough. To this day, Tony didn’t know what had awaited his alternate self on the other side of the void. He didn’t plan to find out. Some questions were better left unanswered, and some gateways locked. This life was what mattered. He had his loving wife, and their beautiful daughter.

He would ask his wife for her advice. If she forbids it, he would drop his research and never allow himself to commence it again. It would pain him, but he would do it. He would do it for her, for their daughter. He had taken too many chances. He couldn’t afford to roll the dice again.

With a deep breath, Tony approached Pepper, the news of his discovery fluttering in his throat.

 

 

\----------

 

 

Tony stared at the transmitter on the table. It didn’t simultaneously combust. The transmitter was cylindrical in shape and painted with the crest of a six-pointed star. At the centre was a lone button. Green light flashed beneath it. Tony steeled his will. He pressed the button. For the first time in five years, the light turned red.

“Tony,” Stephen said as he opened the door to the room. “The Aesirs are here.”

Tony nodded. He left the transmitter to emit a steady signal and followed Stephen out of the room. The main conference space was setup for a hologram call. Peter was fine-tuning his web shooters while Bruce chatted with the hologram of Rhodey. Sam, Steve, and Bucky were on their way to the compound. They had been deployed on a mission in Iceland. Sam and Bucky’s holograms were polishing equipment, while Steve’s hovered his hands before him, piloting the jet. T’Challa was going through the briefing package Stephen had prepared. Loki and Thor, who had arrived recently sat close to the door. Thor entwined his fingers together and used it to prop up his chin. He looked deep in thought.

They had gathered those they could. The remainder would trickle in at their own pace. Tony and Stephen were the last to enter. The door closed with a soft, but firm click. Two seats had been reserved for them: the head of the table, and the spot to its right. Stephen took the righthand spot, leaving Tony with the most prominent seat in the house. Tony ran his hand over the seat’s backrest. It had been a while since he attended a meeting of this scale, but prior to his retirement, he had run Avenger operations for nearly a decade. From this spot, he protected the world from mishaps, kept vigilant over distant threats, and worked through countless sleepless nights. Tony smiled at the bittersweet memories.

“I trust you all read the file?” Tony asked as he sat. One by one, he locked eyes with the people present. “Any objections?” Stephen, too, did his survey of the room. His gaze was chilling when it landed on Steve. The room remained silent for several heartbeats. Tony let out a sigh of relief. “Alright. To summarise, Stephen and I have the Time and Soul Stone.” Tony held out his flesh hand. An orange gem materialised between his thumb and index finger. Despite having spent years dormant, the Soul Stone responded in a fraction of a second. Their bond hadn’t weakened. A wave of unease washed over Tony.

“We will need a day’s time to retrieve the Mind Stone, but it will be ready within twenty-four hours, doctor,” T’Challa said to Stephen. Technically speaking, their current predicament did not concern Wakanda. None of the recipients was Wakandan, and while they couldn’t prove the universe would remain unchanged after his demise, they couldn’t prove his death would alter the universe either. Taking the risk of using the stones into consideration, Tony was thankful the current King of Wakanda had agreed with light questioning.

The room’s gaze shifted to the Aesirs. “Tropic Thunder?” Tony asked.

Thor stared into the distance. His brother kicked him in the shin, which jolted Thor from his thoughts. “Give us two days. The stones are hidden outside the Nine Realms.”

“Yes, about that…” Loki said. Tony shifted at the hesitation in his voice. Loki looked around the room. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket dimension. Loki’s hand disappeared with a pale shimmer. When it re-emerged, two stones were sandwiched between his index, middle, and ring finger. One was the colour of deep space, and the other the colour of ancient blood.

Thor paled at the sight of the stones. “Brother, how could this be? We hid the stones together…” Thor trailed off, as if he had revisited his memories and found a faded detail.

“I meant no malice. The best hiding place we had was secluded, but by no means unreachable. Bor hid the Aether where he thought no one could find, and yet it was found. Your grandfather’s reach extends ours by far.” Loki lowered his voice. Perhaps he knew he was in the wrong.

“We placed wards for that exact purpose!”

“The wards were not enough. I knew I couldn’t convince you, so…”

Thor’s breaths quickened. His gaze switched between his brother and the stones. “So you lied to me, to everyone, for all these years.” Thor stood from his seat, knocking his chair over. “Thanos destroyed our homeland, slayed half of our people for these very stones. You claim to mean no harm, yet you tempt death time and again. Our people have been through much. They need a prince who protects them!”

The quiver in Thor’s voice set off an alarm in Tony’s head. He had never seen Thor so disgruntled, and especially not at his brother. Loki was the last remaining member of his family. For Loki, Thor would go to the Crossroads and back. Switching the Infinity Stones was no laughing matter, but Loki hadn’t used them for personal gain, at least not at a scale where it triggered Stephen’s senses. Tony took in Thor’s clenched fists. Had something happened between them since Loki left for New Asgard?

Tony didn’t want Thor to say something he might regret. He exchanged looks with Stephen, who nodded in support. Tony leaned forward, but before he could intervene, Loki stood too.

“Protects them? Like you? Oh, our mighty saviour, who patrols the Nine Realms like it’s his private garden. You are so brave, so courageous, a true son of Odin! Were you ever there when your people needed you? Brunnhilde would make a finer ruler. Did you think to prevent the destruction, instead of scrambling in the aftermath, trying to salvage scraps from the ashes?” Loki mocked. His words had meant to cut. “Thrice have the wards been disturbed during these short years. Those are the ones we know. How many attempts to seize the stones went undetected? There are three stones on Earth, as long as they remain, war will come whether we like it or not. Rest assured, the stones had been on my person this whole time. I do not wish to live among your precious people. When another Mad Titan comes, he will come for me.”

Tony swallowed dryly. The room’s attention returned to Thor. The God of Thunder was shaking, but Tony knew better than to assume it was from anger. Thor was breathing in short, rapid bursts. His lips trembled with half formed words. Could it be…? Tony wanted to say something. He’d experienced the symptoms himself far too many times. It seemed that Stephen noticed too. The Master of the Mystic Arts stood from his seat. As if he was seeking support, Loki turned to Stephen. In the split-second Loki looked away, Thor sprung for the exit. He nearly ran into the glass door. As soon as the panels parted, Thor bolted from the room.

Loki snapped his eyes back, but he was confronted by thin air. He looked to Stephen again with wide eyes. _Go after him_ , Stephen mouthed. Loki stood still for another moment, trying to make sense of the situation. At the end, he shook his head and followed his brother’s lead.

A heavy silence draped over the table. Tony cleared his throat. In his haste, Loki had left the two stones on the table. They had already singed the surface. Stephen levitated the stones and transferred them into his pocket dimension. He went over a few logistical details with T’Challa. Tony listened, but his mind had drifted out of the room along with the Aesirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks, so I've got good news and bad news. Those who have been following this series for a while will know where this is going. Due to real life squeezing my writing time dry, I've depleted my fic reserve. I want to keep to my update schedule, but I don't think the next chapter will be ready on time. Therefore across the next three weeks, I will update twice, once on the 20th of June, and another on the 30th of June.
> 
> The good news is I know exactly where this story is heading. My outline looks promising, I just need some extra time to flesh things out. Underwriting chapters cripples the story, and I want to do the characters justice. Thanks for being patient with me. 
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

“What’s the matter with you?” a voice called after him. Thor heard it, but his brain failed to register the meaning of those words. He hobbled along the corridor, running head first into an agent. She dropped all her files. Thor pushed past her. The darkness devoured everything in sight. It was catching up to him.

He burst through the front door then crossed the road without looking. A car swerved out of his way. Thor ran until his feet carried him into the forest. He stumbled to a halt, then looked over his shoulder. The darkness was gone, but he couldn’t shake the fear from his chest. It was still there, Thor knew it. He took off again.

The heart of the woods was dim. Aged trees towered above his head. Their emerald crowns formed patches of overlapping shadows. The foliage blocked out the sky, absorbing what little light the early hours offered. The morning mist had not yet cleared. Dew gathered on Thor’s cheeks, and moisture dampened his beard. He kept running. His legs were wet, having wandered through shrubs and grasses. The sole of his boot slipped against the forest floor. He crashed into a blanket of leaves. The smell of decay filled his nostrils.

Thor scrambled to get back on his feet. His boots kicked up branches and rotten roots. Despite his thrashing, he could not stand. He tried until his muscles cramped, and his bones ached. He slumped against the ground, his body half buried in the dirt. Thor squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to tune out the voices that told him to run. It was irrational. He was the nigh immortal God of Thunder. He did not fear. He did not cower in the face of his foes and squirm in the dirt. He faced them head on, with lightning in his eyes and laughter in his throat. He struck them down, one by one. Thousands had wished him death; thousands meet their deaths before him. He was invincible. He was strong enough.

Thor opened his eyes. Suddenly he was no longer in the woods. The Avengers Compound was quieter than it should be. He sat alone in a meeting room, enclosed by three solid walls and a wall of glass. Through the glass wall, he saw that his fellow Avengers had gathered around a blonde woman. They argued in the main conference space. His environment looked a little wrong. His teammates, the décor, the missing staff…something didn’t feel right, but Thor couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

Thor sat still in his seat, like he had always been here, except he couldn’t remember what he had done before or what he planned to do after. A moment later, the memories came to him. Thor almost wished it hadn’t. He could live without knowing that Thanos had completed his goal.

The glass wall muted the outside world. Thor watched his teammates open and close their mouths. Every once in a while, a word would slip into Thor’s ears. They were arguing over their next move. Thor supposed he should join them, but his heart was numb. Everything he had fought for was for naught. Thor closed his eyes, then took a deep breath. He tuned out the numbness and focused on the embers of a once towering flame. There was one more task he needed to complete. He could still be of use.

They jumped on the Benatar, flew to the planet where Thanos had used the stones again. Their defeat had been his fault. He hadn’t gone for the head. This time, Thor didn’t hesitate. When Thanos was no longer of use, Thor sliced his head clean off. The most feared Warlord in their sector of the galaxy fell to the ground of his muddied hut, formless like a sack of meat. Perhaps in death, their last acts were all the same.

Before his teammates could question him, Thor fled. He had completed his final task, but it did nothing to quell the numbness. Instead, the embers that had acted as his guide light died, its remains now a pile of ashes. He went for the head the second time, but what good was more death? Regret did not wake the dead. Those who had been slain would not rise again. Half of his people drifted in the vast void of space with open eyes, waiting for salvation that would never come. Those who had vanished would not return. Trillions of creatures had crumbled apart, leaving behind trillions more to mourn.

With nowhere else to go, Thor returned to Earth. A week after the Mad Titan’s death, Brunnhilde arrived with the remaining half of his people. Thor received them at the landing pad of the Avengers Compound. He took in their haunted expressions and malnourished frames. He wrapped Brunnhilde in a crushing hug, his tears dripping into her hair. Brunnhilde told him to be strong. Thor nodded. That was all he could do now: be strong.

They waited until help arrived. With half its population gone, Earth, too, was in shambles. The Decimation had occurred at random. In certain states, the workforce had shrunk by more than two thirds. The economy collapsed. The remaining Asgardians received meagre support from the U.S. government. Stark provided financial aid, but after he signed the check, the billionaire locked himself in his lab and withdrew from the world. He refused to speak with any of his former teammates. Thor knew how hard Stark had fought to prepare for the Mad Titan’s arrival. Thor didn’t blame him. He had meant to persist, but in the end, the bitterness in his heart won out. He and Stark were never close. In fact, he wouldn’t call himself close to any of the Avengers. He was off-world more often than not. They were colleagues, not friends.

Alone and lost, Thor searched his memories for guidance. He recalled the grass field on which his father began his journey to Valhalla. His father had told him to remember it. With the lack of a better option, Thor told his people that they would find their new home in Norway.

The coastal regions welcomed them hesitantly. Though despite their reluctance, they allowed the Asgardian refugees to form an independent state on their shores, for which Thor was grateful. They provided aid, but not free of charge. Asgard once had a benevolent council. They, too, perished alongside their homeland. Those who had survived first Ragnarök, then the Decimation were mostly civilians. Without a diplomat, Thor was forced to negotiate the terms himself.

Thor held himself together for the sake of his people. He was king. He had a job to do, and that job was to ensure what little remained of his people didn’t starve. Thor had never been wasteful, but neither had he fretted over his next meal. Only then did he realise the importance of Stark’s skills. With no treasurer, nothing to exchange for supplies, and Brunnhilde his only advisor, the people of the late Asgard spent their first year on Earth cold and hungry.

Thor sought out everyone he could for guidance. He was advised that New Asgard needed a stable source of income. They were near the sea, so his people hurled buckets of fish from the water. Manual labour was tough, and the rewards scant, but Thor couldn’t think of anything else his people could do. Fear of a bleak future whipped both him and his people into action. Through back breaking work, his people managed to scrape by the second year. The third year remained the same. By then they had accumulated enough to clear their debt. They used what was left over to trade for equipment and gear. Things fell into order. Then one sunny morning, Thor woke and realised his people no longer needed him.

The realisation was terrifying. The shackles of duty had been the only thing that kept him together. Now that he was free, he was lost. He spent his days patrolling the shores, his eyes peeled for strangers. His actions made his people nervous, and after Brunnhilde reminded him that they had nothing else of value, Thor stopped. He joined the fishermen next, spent his days coated in salt water and fish guts. He had planned to lose himself to the task, but the more he worked away on the foul harbour, the more he resented it.

He was meant for more than this.

His people were meant for more than this.

Asgard once stood at the apex of civilisation. They conquered worlds and united the Nine Realms. Kings quivered before their golden army. His father had been the God of Gods.

Perhaps the dull life they led called for entertainment through other means, but despite the things they lacked, New Asgard had a steady supply of alcohol. Thor spent his days working and his nights drinking. Oh, how he missed Asgardian liquor. Beer brewed from Earthen grains didn’t affect him, but the act of drinking it calmed him. When he drank, the world faded away. He was no longer confronted by the pointlessness of his existence. He concentrated on the liquid flowing down his throat, on the bubbles that burned against the roof of his mouth. The taste was acceptable, so Thor drank some more.

Food came next. The act of stuffing his belly filled the emptiness. He was king. He could afford to indulge. Thor forwent grooming. When his armour became too tight, he pushed them to the back of his closet. Thor stopped going to the harbour, giving Brunnhilde the rest of his duties. He knew he was being irresponsible, but what more could he do? The Valkyrie accepted the tasks without complaint. Her eyes spoke of disapproval. Thor tried to avoid her ever since. It didn’t alleviate the guilt. Korg and Meek showed up on his doorsteps with video games to cheer him up. His people were worried about him, but what was there to worry? He was fine, safe in the borders of his nation with no enemies to slay. There was nothing left to hurt him.

Days and nights blurred together. Unless he was eating or drinking, the waking moments became unbearable. Left alone with his mind, all Thor could see were the faces of the dead. His mother, stabbed through the heart. His father, obliterated by Thanos. His friends, executed by the Black Order. His brother…

The hand of the Titan closed slowly. In the shadow of the towering madman, his brother looked so small. A pair of legs kicked at nothingness. The hand squeezed tighter. His brother turned to him, his eyes red with blood. His hold on the Titan’s arm grew slack, then dropped to his sides.

 _Protector of the Nine Realms_ , the faces chanted. _Why did you not come? Where was the mighty when the weak suffered? Where was the son when his parents bled? Where was the brother when his kin was slain? Where was the friend when his friends called for help? Where was the God of Thunder? Where was Thor?_

 _I was there!_ Thor cried. _I was there, and I fought_. The walls closed in on him. He could do nothing but whisper at the empty room. He tried to explain, tried to beg for forgiveness, but the faces would not listen.

 _Wasted effort_ , the faces said as they faded into the darkness. _Wasted effort_ …

The weight of his failure crashed down on him. It formed an invisible yet smothering blanket. Thor couldn’t fight it, much like his other foes. It was much easier to push it to the back of his mind. Food and drink made him forget his woes. Following the decimation of his family, they became his only companion.

Thor moved into a small shack by the sea, one with few windows. He never opened them. Thick curtains blocked out the light. His brother had said the sun would rise on them again. That had been his final lie. An eternal shadow had claimed his brother’s corpse. Thor was all alone. Nothing he said or did mattered.

The seasons changed with the rising and falling tides. Thor ate, drank, and played video games with Korg and Meek. Brunnhilde gave up on him, like he wanted. Thor had been content to spend the rest of his days in a false drunken haze until one day, an old friend came knocking on his front door.

Thor turned to face the figure at the hallway. He wanted to go up to him, but his limbs were not his own. The old friend’s face was blurry. His body phased in and out of existence, switching between a towering man and a slim Aesir.

 _We need you_ , the old friend said. How long had it been since Thor last heard those words? Could he still be of service? Was there something left he could still do? _Please_ , the old friend said. He repeated the word, over and over again. A second voice joined him. The two voices chanted in unison.

_We need you…Thor._

Thor opened his eyes. He was laying in the forest, the earth cold beneath his palm. He couldn’t tell what time of the day it was, but judging from the brightness, he hadn’t slept for long. A figure hovered above him. The figure sighed gently, then brushed the dirt from Thor’s face.

“Are you hurt?” Loki asked. He helped him sit. Thor leaned against Loki, whose eyes were green and whose hand was warm. Thor’s cheek pressed against Loki’s armour. The coolness reminded him of an early memory of his brother.

When Thor was little, he had run away from the palace and into the woods. It could’ve been a strike from his father, or a harsh word from his mother. The reason escaped him now. What he remembered, was seeing a lanky figure emerge from the fearsome depths when he was lost. The foliage had been too dark, and the branches white like skeletal fingers. The lanky figure had pushed the leaves aside and crushed the branches beneath his boot. He told Thor that it was alright, that he was there, and that they, as brothers, would face whatever peril the world could throw at them together.

Time had fogged their memories, and the throne clouded their judgement, but as things turned out, Loki never wanted the throne. He only wanted to be Thor’s equal. Looking back, perhaps Thor never wanted it either. He remembered the despair in his heart when his brother fell from the Rainbow Bridge. Thor had realised then that the throne he so desperately wanted meant nothing if gaining it would cost him the brother he treasured.

Thor stared at his brother’s face. Loki’s features blurred as tears dripped from his eyes. Loki looked away, as if embarrassed on Thor’s behalf. In time, he settled onto the dirt beside Thor.

“I’m here,” Loki said. The words lit up a ray of hope in Thor’s heart. Loki had the Tesseract, but things were still alright. Those events had not come to pass. He still had a family.

His brother was right here.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here are the rest of Thor's visions! In the next chapter, we will begin to prep in earnest! The big showdown won't be far away.
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

With a clear objective, the Avengers sprang into action. Stephen’s first task was to retrieve the Mind Stone. According to Tony, portals were among the greatest spells ever created, and Stephen agreed. For an entry-level conjuration spell, its practical uses were endless.

The Mind Stone exchanged hands under a backdrop of orange sparks. Stephen placed the stone in his pocket dimension alongside Time, Space, and Reality. After returning from Wakanda, Friday informed him that Tony had left the compound. Stephen checked his watch. Mark Eighty-five emitted a steady signal from a Stark Industries factory. It was the only one left capable of producing state-of-the-arts combat gear. Stephen found his partner on the mezzanine level of the factory.

They had agreed to take no chances. Stephen wanted to utilise every tool at their disposal, which included the Iron Legion. Tony, as Stephen predicted, was hesitant to weaponize the small army. Over the years, Stark Industries had won many legal battles regarding the Legion’s method of operation, enduring pressure from both the White House and the Armed Forces. As a peacekeeping group, the Iron Legion had never been outfitted with weaponry, and if Tony was to have his way, it would remain so until its disbandment.

Unlike his father, Tony was not a war profiteer. Suggesting that Tony should turn the peacekeeping group into an instrument of death had left a bad taste in Stephen’s mouth. In the end, Tony’s sense of duty persuaded him to give in. Everyone involved would bring their A-game. Tony wasn’t about to be the exception.

The former leader of the Avengers watched the assembly bots work with crossed arms. Beneath him, an undulating sea of mechanics rose and fell to the beat of whirling gears. Hundreds of workstations were lit by white light, operated by robot arms that knew neither boredom nor exhaustion. They felt no pain, no hunger, made no errors, and as long as the sun was up for a minimum of three hours a day, they could continue to work until the end of their lifespan, after which they would be replaced by another generation of bots.

As Tony synthesised most precious metals in-house, the factory was self-sufficient. Two years ago, Stark Industries had created a nation-wide recycling program that would not only minimise waste to landfill, but also salvage components from discarded electronics. Tony’s new peaceful approach has built Stark Industries into the largest tech conglomerate in the world. It was heights his father wouldn’t have dreamt of.

Like each of his previous visits to a Stark Industries factory, Stephen was mesmerised by the power of industrialisation. It would be like child’s play for Tony to pump out black-market technology. He could sell them to the highest bidder. No one would be the wiser. Or he could continue with his father’s old ways. He would encounter no extra-terrestrial threats and face less scrutiny from an often thankless world. It was the sickest form of irony that Tony’s personal interests advanced only after he stopped saving the world.

Stephen joined Tony on the mezzanine. They watched the bots for a bit. On the workbench closest to Stephen lay a Legionnaire with exposed wiring. Tiny robot arms worked to solder missile launchers, plasma grenades, and suture sprays into the exposed compartments, filling the empty layer between the external shell. To keep with the times, the Iron Legion had been replaced several times over. The current Legion, unlike the iteration that had fought in the Battle of Mojave Desert, had not fired a single bullet to date. However, the space for weaponry was there. In some ways, Tony had always been prepared for the worst.

“How’s the chat with Pink Panther?” Tony asked without taking his eyes off the bots.

“Uneventful,” Stephen said.

“That doesn’t sound like the advisory council.”

“The king’s opinion is the one that matters. We’ll let the Wakandans settle their own politics.”

“True.”

A heavy silence followed. “How’s transport?” Stephen asked.

“Oh, you know, ‘no,’ ‘never,’ ‘not while I’ve still got breath in me,’ the usual.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“We need the Pym Particles to transport the Legion.” Stephen mentally tallied the space a loose Legion would need. Transporting a handful of individuals across the Omniverse was complicated enough. None of them were comfortable with experimental numbers on a journey of such cosmic proportions. The Iron Legion would either have to be shrunken, or they weren’t coming.

“Thankfully, his wife agreed. She managed to convince him.”

Stephen turned to face Tony. “And yet you aren’t jumping with joy.”

Tony bit the inside of his cheek. His brows were furrowed, deepening the wrinkles between them. He glared at the assembly bots. They worked flawlessly. Whatever the fault was, it didn’t lie within the bots. “Before Obie—before Stane died, he told me that while I tried to rid the world of weapons, I gave it its best one.” Tony tapped on the arc reactor. The metal of his chrome hand chimed against the metal of the reactor. The words came easily, as if he had been waiting for Stephen to ask.

“Stane was also a sociopath and a mass murderer,” Stephen said. The silence thickened. Tony looked down, though the tips of his steel-capped boots hadn’t called for his attention. “I know this is difficult to watch, but I assure you it’s worthwhile. We will be facing the Outriders again. We need all the firepower we can muster.”

“I know. It’s just…” Tony shook his head. He finally met Stephen’s eyes. “My father used to say that peace meant having the bigger stick. I believed it, spread it like gospel. It took three months in a cave, living with a chest full of shrapnel to understand the weight of it. Now here I am, making the bigger sticks again.”

Under the mezzanine, the bots worked, oblivious to their owner’s inner turmoil. Stephen wondered if Thanos had a production line just like this one, hidden somewhere in deep space, building Chitauri and Outriders designed to kill. “Sometimes to beat to villain, we have to use their methods,” Stephen said. His own mentor had broken the natural order to protect it. She had been called a saviour, but what became of her after peace was restored? Her hypocrisy drove Mordo to madness. As Sorcerer Supreme, it was Stephen’s turn do the necessary. Each time he escaped with his life, the inevitable loomed closer. It was searching for him: the dues he had yet to pay.

Tony ran a hand down his mouth. “I don’t want to become him. Howard, I mean.”

“But you are not your father. What he did in the past remains in the past, be it good or evil.” Stephen reached up with his right hand and rested his thumb between Tony’s brows. Eventually, the creases there smoothened. Stephen nudged his chin toward the Legionnaires. “We’ll dismantle them, as soon as we get back.”

Tony considered Stephen’s words. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Now will you tell me what’s really going on?” Stephen retracted his thumb, only to flick Tony’s forehead with his index finger. The light tap brought out a smile from Tony.

“It’s nothing. I had another trip down someone else’s memory lane, saw another Stark with significantly less awesome facial hair. We need to pick up the pace,” Tony said.

“You saw your father?” Stephen asked. Tony answered by scrunching his upper lip. “What did he say? Or rather, what did he say to your alternate self?”

“He said he loved me…and that there wasn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for me.” Tony’s gaze drifted into the distance, as if through the haze of white light, he could see the man always one step beyond his reach.

Stephen scoffed. “What a roundabout way of expressing affection.”

“Once upon a time I would’ve believed it.”

“But now?”

Tony smirked. He gave Stephen a pat on the shoulder. “But now I have a family. I know what love is.”

 

 

\----------

 

 

True to their promise, the Guardians of the Galaxy arrived on the next day the signal was sent. Tony waited with Stephen on the landing pad. The Guardians had learned a thing or two from their previous trip to Earth. As soon as they emerged in the Solar System, the Milano sent a message to Earth’s satellites, requesting permission to land. Jarvis approved the alien spacecraft, which placated the World Security Net.

The ship that landed before Tony was strange yet familiar. The Milano had gotten bigger. Compared to the original, its blue and orange wings spanned nearly twice as wide. The hull had grown too, albeit modestly, providing ample room for a small team like the Guardians.

Quill was the first to exit. The captain of the Milano didn’t wait for the hatch to fully open. He hopped off the moving platform then struck a pose in his signature leather jacket. Gamora, Rocket, Groot, Drax, Mantis, and Nebula followed. They marched with sure steps. The equalising pressure created a gust of wind. Alien atmosphere mixed with Earth’s oxygen, flanking the group with blue mist, adding a touch of drama.

“Show off,” Stephen muttered beneath his breath. Tony chuckled as they walked up to Quill.

“The Guardians to the rescue! How may we be of service?” Quill saluted at Tony. The years had treated him well. A handful of fine lines were beginning to decorate Quill’s face, but his hair was the same dusty brown. Not a speckle of white was in his rugged beard. The grenades on his belt had multiplied. Aside from his improved arsenal, Quill looked the same.

“Good to see you, Marty Mcfly, and not a minute too soon.” Tony gave Quill a firm handshake. He guided the Guardians into the Compound, briefing them along the way.

“There’s never a dull moment around here,” Quill said.

“With all this entertainment, I’m thinking of cancelling cable.” Tony took in the other Guardians as they walked. Gamora, Drax, and Mantis hadn’t changed much either. They each boasted flashy equipment upgrades, but much like Quill, their features remained the same. Groot was the one who had transformed the most. Five years was more than enough time for the Grootling to grow into a specimen that resembled his father. His once twiggy body was now a bundle of interwoven roots. A crown of moss and jade leaves decorated his head. Tony didn’t know Groot’s life expectancy, but he would hazard a guess that the Grootling was entering his prime.

Rocket, on the other hand, appeared a little grey. The ring of white fur around his face had thinned, and his coat had lost its shine. Though he seemed to be in good spirits. Rocket quipped with Tony as they entered and left the decontamination chamber. As his surrogate son grew, Rocket would eventually wither and decay. It was the natural order, the ever-turning wheel of renewal. Tony himself was aging too, but he did not fear. Time taught them to treasure the here and now. Without death, there was no meaning to life. He had been blessed with his family. There wasn’t anything else he could wish for.

Nebula’s transformation had been the most subtle. Tony suspected that her upgrades had been internal. The only thing setting her apart from her younger self was the strip of orange metal that ran down the left side of her face. It replaced the skin coloured plate that used to be there. The orange was bright and lively, almost unlike Nebula. Tony noted that the shade was identical to the orange of the Milano.

Stunned by the discovery, Tony’s gaze lingered a little too long. Nebula caught him studying her. Tony flashed her a smile. Nebula’s eyes widened, but instead of a growl, she nodded in return. The assassin from five years ago had been filled with nothing but darkness. The Guardians had done a fine job.

“So you want us to get the Power Stone? That can be arranged.” The first thing Quill did when he entered the communal lounge was to raid the fruit bowl. He stashed an apple and a pear inside each of his jacket pocket and bit into a plum. The Compound’s kitchen was always stocked with plums. They were Bucky’s favourite.

“Yeah, but first thing’s first. It’s not on Earth, is it?” Tony asked, perhaps too seriously.

Quill was taken aback by the question. “Of course not. You told us to hide it.”

Tony let out a sigh of relief. “Excellent job.”

“Time-wise, what’s your estimate?” Stephen asked.

Quill finished the plum with two more bites. He counted the number of jumps. “A day or so? In and out, no detours.”

The Guardians joined the Avengers for lunch, then left immediately after for the Power Stone. Rocket and Nebula stayed to help assemble the gauntlet. Tony had originally wanted to seek out Eitri again, but Thor convinced him to do so only as a last resort. The dwarf king has suffered the loss of his entire clan. He retired to the dwarven home world after the war, leaving Nidavellir empty. Restarting the forge would awaken the ghosts of the fallen.

Tony agreed to give building the gauntlet a go himself. To his surprise, his hologram model succeeded on the second try. A knowing feeling had guided him through the process. Tony supposed he had wielded the gauntlet twice, and once with all six Infinity Stones. It was possible that his experience could translate to other areas.

Things at the Compound progressed in a state of orderly chaos. The Guardians returned within hours of the Iron Gauntlet’s completion. Unlike the Infinity Gauntlet, which Tony had hoped to never see again, the Iron Gauntlet was right-handed. It was Tony’s personal way of rebellion. Despite having no choice but to gather the stones again, he wasn’t the Mad Titan. Iron Man, as a part of the Avengers, protected life. No reason for genocide was justified.

One by one, Tony mounted the stones into the slots. Silver nanoparticles closed around the gleaming gems, locking them in place. Rainbow colours flowed down the gauntlet, creating a strange union between the beauty of engineering, and the power cosmic energy.

The stone’s power signatures had been deceptively different. There was an underlying principle which all six Infinity Stones abided. However, the slots still had to be tailored to suit each individual stone. There were terabytes of calculations that could go wrong. Tony held his breath as he waited for a potential rejection.

“Boo!” Rocket exclaimed. Tony nearly jumped out of his seat. His heart hammered against the back of his throat. When nothing happened, Tony slowly turned to Rocket, and gave him the dirtiest glare he could master. The racoon laughed.

Tony resisted the urge to fling him into the scraps pile. He studied the Iron Gauntlet in all its glory. Now they would ask the biggest question of all.

Who would use the Infinity Stones?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The road trip is next! ;D
> 
> All optimism aside...I'm scared for Spider-Man: Far From Home...
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

When Tony gave the order to assemble, the Avengers were ready. Inhabitants of the compound gathered in the conference room. The furnishings had been removed in favour of a display stand. The Iron Gauntlet was suspended in the middle of the glass case by three silver claws. White fluorescent light bounced off the bare walls. It didn’t distract from the vivid colours. Tony sank his teeth into his bottom lip. No matter how much he stared at it, the sight of all six Infinity Stones still unnerved him.

Stephen stood to his left, and Peter to his right. The three of them formed a shallow arc. Bruce, Thor, Loki, Rhodey, Sam, Steve, Bucky, Nebula, Quill, Gamora, Rocket, Groot, Drax, and Mantis followed. Together, they completed the circle that surrounded the most powerful artefact in the galaxy.

“I’ll do it.” It was Thor who broke the tension. His tone left no room for doubt.

Tony had been the first to volunteer. Stephen rejected the notion before Tony could finish pleading his case. Using all six stones in the previous war had cost him his left arm. The situation had been dire then. Now that they had other options, Stephen insisted that someone more physically powerful should wield the gauntlet. This presented them with two candidates: Thor and the Hulk.

For reasons same as last time, it was ill-advised for the Hulk to control an aspect of the universe, let alone all of them. Wielding the gauntlet required both concentration and finesse. One must envision their goal with perfect clarity, ignoring worldly distractions and other personal desires. If Bruce had been in control of the Hulk’s powers, he would’ve made the perfect candidate. However, while they had grown closer throughout the years, Tony’s science partner and his alter ego remained two distinct individuals. They had both felt that while they appreciated the other, they weren’t ready, and didn’t want to lose a part of themselves to fuse with the other.

Tony had supported their decision. They were two minds capable of independent thought. To live as one would mark the death of what made them both unique. Remaining separate was the best outcome for Bruce and the Hulk, though it did make situations like these difficult.

If the damage dealt to Tony was anything to go by, transporting the team across the void would gravely injure the wielder. Stephen had suspected that Tony survived the shockwave only because he entered another plane of existence. The Crossroads was not of any world known. His presence there removed him from the aftermath of wielding the gauntlet, leaving only the immediate damage relevant. Had Tony remained in the same universe after he closed his fist, the shockwave would’ve killed him. The demise of the alternate Tony Stark lent weight to Stephen’s theory.

The discovery disgruntled Tony. It was as if they had found a flaw in the system, in which the wielder wouldn’t have to pay their dues. Today, they would yet again travel to another world. If the theory held, the change in universe should dampen the impact, but there was also a possibility that Tony’s survival had been a fluke. Tony looked around the room. He had no choice but to admit that Thor was their best option, provided the Aesir was up for the task.

“Are you sure?” Rhodey asked. “At best, you might lose your arm.”

“Yes,” Thor said. The burning desire to make things right could cloud one’s judgement. Tony had fallen victim to it many times. He took in Thor’s demeanour, tried to gauge the Aesir’s ability to focus. Tony took hints from Thor’s relaxed shoulder, even breaths, and calm features. A layer of clarity subdued the determination in Thor’s eyes. Tony gave his team time to think. No one objected.

“Alright.” Tony nodded. He doubled tapped on the arc reactor, encasing himself with Mark Eighty-five. On cue, Peter closed the helmet of the Iron Spider while Stephen placed a protective ward around the room. The rest of the team readied their weapons. Tony unlocked the display stand. Planes of glass parted to reveal the Iron Gauntlet. With the obstructions gone, the stones radiated a dazzling concoction of colours.

“Just like old times.” Quill laughed. He rubbed his hands together, bouncing his weight from the sole of one foot to another. Gamora smirked as she exchanged looks with her sister.

Thor swallowed loudly. He reached forth. Tony held his breath as the nanoparticles shifted to accommodate a hand different to Tony’s own. With a gentle tug, Thor freed the gauntlet from the stand. Rainbow colours coursed up Thor’s arm, lighting up his veins. His eyes shone electric blue. The might of thunder was keeping the stones at bay, but only barely.

“Slow and ste—” The words ghosted past Tony’s lips. As he reached for the holographic controls, an intangible force made him stop. Tony was overwhelmed by a feeling difficult to describe. It was as if some greater power he could neither see nor control flowed through him. It used him as a conduit, entering and leaving without a trace. Peter doubled over. His pupils were blown wide, pushing his irises into thin bands of amber. Tony rushed to the young Avenger’s side. “Jarvis, talk to me!”

“Diagnosing… Sir, Mr. Parker does not appear to be injured,” Jarvis said. Tony threw a quick glance at his HUD. Peter’s vitals fluctuated, albeit in the safe range. He remained unresponsive.

“Brother!” Thor called as Loki tipped backward. After a lull, Steve did the same. Seeing others succumb to the same symptoms placated Tony. The affected group was too precise to be a coincident. Tony had seen the security footages of himself when the visions struck. He leaned back, giving Peter space to move. The young Avenger thrashed about, kicking and punching invisible foes. Across the floor, Loki looked from side to side while Steve stared blankly into the distance. They stilled after a moment. Tony exchanged looks with Stephen. The visions were beginning to affect the second tier of recipients. They were running out of time.

It was Loki who returned first. His vision had been the shortest. The Aesir held up his left hand, as if something had once been in his palm. He touched his neck gingerly, jumping when his brother called his name.

Peter came back next. He stared at the ceiling for several heartbeats. When Tony called to him, his eyes snapped to Tony at once. “Mr. Stark?” Peter lunged for Tony, closing him in a crushing hug. He was shaking. Tony didn’t know if it was from pain or relief.

“It’s okay, kid. I’m here,” Tony said as he stroked Peter’s back.

Peter’s chest convulsed with each breath. His arms tightened like steel rods over Tony’s back. He glanced around the room, searching for something. When he couldn’t find it, he pulled back slightly, putting the minimum distance between them to study Tony. Peter’s eyes darted across Tony’s hair, the lines on his face, and finally his chrome arm. “T—Tony,” Peter said hesitantly.

“Yeah, it’s me. Welcome back, kid.” Tony took a step back to give Peter some space. Peter grabbed his arm in a knee-jerk reaction. When the young Avenger realised what he had done, he blushed and let go. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ve got this.” Tony closed the distance again. He placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “What did you see?”

“I think Mr. Thor should use the Infinity Stones,” Peter said out of the blue. He stole a glance at the Iron Gauntlet then turned to Tony. “Don’t go near it, please.” There was a glassy sheen over Peter’s eyes. As the seconds ticked by, the moisture bunched into beads. Peter fumbled to wipe them away. It was as if a cold hand had wrapped around Tony’s heart and squeezed. He kept his eyes trained on the young Avenger. The tears stopped after the first few drops. Tony knew they were emotional residue from another timeline, but it didn’t make watching his surrogate son suffer any easier.

“There’s no time to lose,” Steve said as Bucky helped him up. “We need to go, now. Thanos is on his way.”

The room turned to Thor, who was in turn watching Loki. “Well, don’t look at me,” Loki said. “My demise came too early to be of use.” Thor clenched his teeth at the mention of his brother’s death. He lifted the gauntlet again. As soon as he tried to channel the stone’s might, the conflicting colours returned.

Stephen stepped forth and drew a line of light across the room. The line split into alternate routes. Stephen identified their destination, marking it with a green ball of mystic energy. “Remember, we must enter this exact point in time, in this exact universe. To minimise the rippling effect, we interact with no one unless we must. Our goal is to win the war and protect the Tony Stark of the alternate universe. Failure to do either might result in a collapse of our current world.”

“Sounds like Tuesday. Let’s get this show on the road,” Rocket said.

“Steady does it, Point Break.” Tony closed his eyes. The Soul Stone was mounted on the gauntlet, as per his doing, but only he could control it. He called for the stone. It answered as if it hadn’t left at all. Tony demanded that the stone allow Thor’s consciousness to guide it. Before long, another mind prodded his own in the astral plane.

Maintaining the link required immense concentration. Tony kept his eyes closed to block out the distractions. The darkness was chilling like the cold void of his dreams, the void that had shown him his tattered team, and the one in which he would drift endlessly, with the portal closed behind him, surrounded by oblivion.

Something heated touched his left hand. His chrome arm was made from nanoparticles, and there was no need to cover it with armour. The touch receptors interpreted the object and told Tony that it was something he had committed to memory. Stephen linked their hands together. Another consciousness joined them in the astral plane. Stephen had used his free hand to hold onto Thor, forming a physical circuit between them. The link became easier to maintain. Tony took a deep breath.

Peter came next. The lively ball of energy was impossible to mistake. One by one, other energies added to the circuit, some ordinary, others eccentric. Someone mustered a wave of soothing energy, Mantis. They formed a perfect circle in the astral plane, mirroring their bodies in the material world.

Thor closed his fist. A burst of energy pulsed through them, jumping from one individual to the next. It gained momentum as it travelled. Tony was weightless. Not for the first time, he felt what it was like to exist as a bodiless entity. His physical form was broken down to molecules, then atoms, yet somehow his sense of self remained. Parts of his old body brushed past the atoms of his teammates. They merged into one singular cloud, propelled through the Omniverse by the power of the Infinity Stones.

The separation process was much quicker. Before Tony could prepare, his feet crashed against a hard plane. He heard the grunts of his teammates. Their boots scraped against the polished surface. The weight of the circle rocked the floor. A burnt odour filled his nostrils.

Tony opened his eyes. They were in a dark room. At first glance, it was the same one they had occupied a moment ago, except the furnishings had returned. Tony took a while to shake off the dizziness, then realised that the room was dark because someone had activated the compound’s defence protocols.

Jarvis, whom Tony had uploaded a physical copy into his suit infiltrated the internet. “Remarkable work, Mr. Odinson. Both the location and date appear to be correct.”

Thor grunted in response. The burnt smell was coming from his right hand. Upon sensing the journey was complete, the Iron Gauntlet expanded, slipping free of the injured arm. Tony doused the arm with suture spray. He retrieved a vial of Extremis Super Serum and injected the contents into Thor’s forearm. Thor let out a sigh of relief. The heat of Extremis burned through the suture spray. Dead flesh flaked away like the ash of burning coal. His shrivelled arm was filled with new flesh. The fire died after the last of the dead skin was gone. Thor clenched and unclenched his hand. It was shaking, and he couldn’t quite form a fist.

“How are you feeling?” Tony asked.

“It will be fine.” Thor tried again, getting closer to forming a fist this time.

Tony let out a sigh of relief. He left Loki to stay by Thor and checked on the rest of the team. No one had sprouted another head. “Are we all good?”

“I’m positive I have most of my organs,” Drax said as he patted himself down.

“Won’t you be…um…dead without them?” Peter asked.

“They might have shrunken.”

Tony wondered why he bothered. He turned to Stephen, who wrapped up a detection spell. “The dimensions are stable,” the brains of the team said.

“Great, now we just have to—” Tony was cut short by the whirl of mechanics. The armoured panels that had enclosed the compound lifted. Sunlight flooded into the room, puncturing the veil of darkness. It connected them with the rest of the foreign world. A flock of birds chirped on the trees outside.

“What the…”

Tony turned at the familiar voice. The team snapped to fighting formation. A glass room had been revealed by the retracted panels. People converged at the exit. They held weapons which mirrored the Avengers. A man stepped forth, the red and gold of his armour surreal under the sunlight. He dissolved the nanoparticles of his helmet. Behind the blue glow of his energy shield, a pair of caramel coloured eyes locked with Tony’s.

The face that stared back resembled the one Tony saw in the mirror, except there were subtle differences. Tony’s once dark locks had faded to an almost silver, a result of wielding the gauntlet, but his counterpart’s was golden brown. The lines on the other man’s face were deeper. They etched into his cheeks and forehead, a result of having spent longer frowning over calculations. He had both of his arms, but his frame was smaller, less imposing than Tony’s, which had been enhanced by the diluted Super Soldier Serum.

“Kid…?” His counterpart’s gaze flicked behind him.

Peter nodded. “Tony.”

“Hi,” Tony smiled and waved, somewhat stiff at the joints. He glanced over the group behind his counterpart and did a headcount. The Hulk, a weird splice between Bruce and his alter ego; they must’ve fused in this timeline. Steve, the same man from his visions. Thor, geez, he’d really let himself go. Clint, edgy new look. Scott, nothing special there. Rocket, same as the little shit that scared the hell out of him, and…

Tony’s heart sank when his eyes drifted to Rhodey. The discharged symbol on his War Machine suit revived unwelcomed memories. That was right; his best friend had been crippled for life. He had spent so long living his second chance; he forgot how badly he had messed up the first time around.

“Bruce, I thought we agreed not to change anything,” his counterpart said. He turned to the green giant that had hobbled to the front of the group, his repulsors trained on Tony.

“I didn’t.” The Hulk of the alternate timeline couldn’t take his eyes off Bruce. “Why would I create a copy of ourselves? It was never in my subconsciousness.”

“It’s not you, it’s us. God, we sound like some eight o’clock soap opera.” Tony was the first to lower his repulsors. He walked up to his counterpart, who flinched and took a step back. “I know you don’t trust me. I don’t expect you to, but we’re almost out of time. The take-home point is we’re from another universe, and we are here to help. We took some serious risks to get here, and if I am to be frank, we are all screwed if we don’t win the war to come.”

“What war?” his counterpart asked.

“Thanos is coming,” Tony explained. He would’ve elaborated had an orange sphere of mandalas not swallowed him. Tony’s head whipped to Stephen, who had erected the barrier without warning. Stephen opened his mouth to say something. His gaze was upturned as he looked beyond the skylight.

Before an explanation could reach him, Tony’s world was rocked by a deafening explosion. His boots touched nothing. The floor beneath him caved, and Tony tumbled down the opening. Another explosion hit them, turning the structure to rubble. The mandala sphere deflected the debris, but Tony felt the impact as he spiralled down the wreckage. His world spun endlessly. Tony landed on his chest, knocking the wind from his lungs. Debris piled on top of him. The mandala sphere dutifully intercepted fallen concrete and steel reinforcement. Tony silently thanked Stephen as he moved his arms close to his chest.

He waited for the wreckage to stabilise before crawling out from under the rubble. The compound was a mess of sirens and flashing red light. “Stephen?” Tony yelled. No one answered.

“Sir, an unknown wavelength is dampening our signals,” Jarvis said.

Tony brought up a map of the compound on his HUD. He didn’t know if the layout here was any different, but it was that or nothing. Jarvis scanned their surroundings. The structural damage was bad. He had fallen six stories below the main floor, with no one by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand the road trip begins! ;D Are we ready to kick names and take ass?
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

Tony pushed on in the darkness. Most of the emergency lights had been crushed. He lit the way with his left hand and searched for survivors. Energy hummed in his right repulsor, hot and ready for trouble. Water drenched Mark Eighty-five. The basement was filling quickly. It could be broken pipes, or something much worse. Tony hoped the retaining wall holding the Hudson River was stable.

The sound of water threw off his hearing. Twice now, Tony had thought he heard his teammates cry for help. Those voices disappeared when he stilled. How far had he been tossed by the blast? Conjured from mystic energy, the mandala sphere was unyielding. It protected him in the explosion but didn’t absorb shock like his armour would. Tony had fallen through the wreckage like a pinball. He was unharmed, but he had no idea where the rest of his team was.

Tony flew to the level above when he found a crack in the ceiling. It removed him from the water. The odd emergency light coloured the floor in a sinister red. “Jarvis, where’s the glove?” Tony asked his trusty AI. He wasn’t going to find anyone like this. Time for a change of tactics.

“Detection failed,” Jarvis said.

Tony thought as much, but he had an ace up his sleeve. He called for the Soul Stone. Instead of demanding that it returned, Tony used the response to form a link between them in the astral plane. He followed the link, rounding corners when his path was blocked. His repulsors could clear the debris, but the compound was coming apart at the seams. The last thing he wanted was for the structure to collapse. It would crush his teammates. After another fifteen minutes of navigating the ruins, Tony found the gauntlet lodged in a pile of rubble.

He was in a boiler room of sorts. Thick steel tubes connected vats of liquid in the double-height space. Steam spritzed into the air from broken valves. The gauntlet had been caught by the catwalk. Tony hovered up to it, landing on the catwalk with a decisive _clank_. Beneath the layer of concrete dust, the stones gleamed forever bright. A quick scan revealed that despite the scorched shell, the mechanics remained functional. It would support another use at most. Tony made a mental note to service it before the trip home. He bent down to retrieve his creation. He was stopped by the hum of a reactor that was not his own.

“Nuh-uh, don’t even think about it.” A figure emerged from the shadows. Tony turned without touching the gauntlet. His counterpart’s unibeam was aimed at his arc reactor.

“Careful where you’re pointing that thing,” Tony said. How very like him to bring out the big guns on…well… _himself_. Tony let the glow of his repulsors fade. “We’re on the same side.”

“Seconds after you get here, nutsack 2.0 blows up our base. Coincidence? I think not.” His counterpart closed in as Tony backed away. The other man’s suit was marred with scratches.

“Like I said, we’re here to help,” Tony tried again. He kept an eye on the gauntlet. Sensing his interest, his counterpart kicked the gauntlet out of reach.

“Prove it.”

“Are we seriously doing this now? If you die, I die. Isn’t that enough?” A spike of annoyance prickled Tony. He had literally just crossed the biggest divide unknown to man. There were two sets of stones Thanos could use against them, none of which were secure, and he’d lost his team. He had wanted nothing more than to stay in his universe and keep his family safe. This wretched world was a nightmare he couldn’t shake. Now he was scrutinised by the very person he was trying to save.

Tony threw his hands in the air. “Look, I’ve dealt with my Thanos. Stabbed him through the heart with my own nanosword. It’s over for me. I thought I was gonna ride off into the sunset until I realised that due to time travel, there is a link which connects us. I didn’t want to do this, but I need to help you win.” Tony gestured to the wreckage. He swallowed dryly. The inevitability of having to confront his worst fears again terrified him. Words flowed from him like grain from a ripped sack. “Do you know how risky time travel, let alone dimension travel is? I had no choice but to endanger everyone I ever loved all over again. We spent years trying to prepare for the biggest threat Earth has ever known. Now that threat is back, and I don’t know what to do.”

His counterpart said nothing. The glowing eyes of Mark Eight-five betrayed none of its wearer’s intention. Tony didn’t back down. Eventually, his counterpart dispersed the energy in his chest. “I’ve always been a firm believer of saving myself, just never thought I’d need to take it so literally.”

“You can say that again.” Tony scooted closer to the gauntlet. This time, the other man didn’t stop him.

“We need a plan of attack,” his counterpart said as he dissolved his helmet again. In contrast to the picture of calm Tony had expected, his counterpart looked pale. The man’s eyes darted from left to right, and despite the defused hostility, his arms were tense like logs.

“I have a plan, attack,” Tony deadpanned.

The other man was taken aback by the answer. The irony of the reply struck him, and he couldn’t suppress the snicker that escaped his downturned lips. “Never thought I’d be on the receiving end of that line.”

“First time for everything.” Tony picked up the gauntlet. He dissolved the armour covering his flesh hand. Slowly, Tony reached into it. He paused when his hand was halfway there. Tony took a deep breath. There was no time for hesitation. He forced himself to don the gauntlet fully. As soon as his knuckles touched the stones, a self-filling pool of boundless energy opened to him. Tony activated the fail-safe, sealing off access to all stones except Soul.

“You alright? That thing nearly fried the Hulk.” His counterpart eyed him with furrowed brows. The latch of his suture spray was open.

“Didn’t plan on using it.” Tony disintegrated the seam of the gauntlet and fused it with Mark Eighty-five. The artefact wasn’t coming off until they won the war. “Do you know where the others are?”

“No, but I found an opening.” The other man’s attention was caught by a distant shrill. Tony peered into the darkness. At the end of the catwalk, a cluster of shadows contorted under the red emergency lights. Hard objects clanged against the metal mesh. Something was coming, fast. Tony fired a flare into the distance. The green spark illuminated the teeth and claws of a four-armed beast.

“Incoming!” Tony said. His counterpart opened fire. The repulsor blast tore apart the pipes lining the far wall, releasing a burst of scalding vapour. The steam cooked the first and second Outrider. Tony aligned the laser compartment to his left gauntlet. Red lines pierced the room, reducing the last of the squadron to chunks.

Tony exchanged looks with his counterpart. “Not bad,” the other man said. “Always thought we could use another me.”

“Wait till you see my partner,” Tony said.

The other man’s eyebrows shot up. “I was meaning to ask…”

“Yeah?”

His counterpart thought about it, then said: “you know what, let’s save it for the after-party.”

Tony nodded. They haven’t got time for distractions. Now that one set of stones were secure, they must find the other. Tony marched toward the direction the Outriders had come. More shrills echoed down the corridor.

That was where the action was.

 

 

\----------

 

 

Stephen brought his hands close to his chest. It helped to control the shaking. Green light wrapped his forearm like an extension of his bracers. The spell was becoming difficult to maintain. He increased his input of mystic energy into the spell and kept an eye out for enemies.

“Stephen, are we close?” Peter asked beside him, the eyes of the Iron Spider blinding in the darkness.

“Yes,” Stephen said. Mystic energy tickled his fingertips. The Time Stone was nearby, he could sense it.

“I wonder how Tony’s doing.” The helmet of the Iron Spider passed Peter’s voice through an electronic filter. It removed none of the quiver. Peter was worried. Stephen’s own stomach was rolling from the possibilities. He hadn’t forgotten the most important part of their mission. They must protect Tony, as well as the continuation of Tony’s old self at any cost. Otherwise, the war would be won in vain.

He had managed to erect a protective sphere around Tony. That made him feel better. Tony would remain impervious to damage until after the wreckage stabilised. Peter, being behind him at the time, had shielded them both with his spider legs, blocking most of the debris. In Stephen’s haste, he hadn’t erected a barrier around himself. The ballistic weave of his robes absorbed the impact, but his head struck something on his way down. The contact tore a patch of skin from his forehead. It bled down his temple, turning his cheek wet and sticky. His head throbbed from a mild concussion. Stephen tried to minimise his movement. With his enhanced physique, the pain would pass on its own.

“Do you need to sit down?” Peter asked. He had dug them both out of the debris. They had been navigating the ruins for twenty minutes, with no end in sight.

“No, I’m fine,” Stephen said. The tingling on his fingertips stopped, then returned with a vengeance. A sharp, prickling pain replaced the tickle. “The stones are on the move.” Stephen charged down the corridor, Peter followed closely. They didn’t have to run far to feel the vibrations from the floor. They were in a service corridor. Quick footsteps thudded against the mesh beneath their feet. A figure sprung toward them.

“Is that…Hawkeye?” Peter asked.

Stephen’s externalised HUD zoom in on the running figure. Barton had the Iron Gauntlet sandwiched under his arm, a squadron of Outriders hot on his tail. The man’s chest heaved from sprinting, any slower, and the Outriders would be drooling down his neck. He had his arrow trained on Peter until he recognised him. Peter fired a web grenade down the corridor. The red sphere exploded, spraying the area with translucent webbing. It sealed the corridor, catching the Outriders like flies. Without looking, Barton fired two arrows behind him. The arrows lodged into the centre of the web. There was a small compartment joined to the tip of the arrow, explosives. The blast silenced the beasts. Stephen conjured a shield between the blast and Barton to protect the three of them from the expanding flames.

“Hey man,” Peter retracted his helmet as Barton ran up to them.

“Thanks,” Barton said.

Stephen cast his eye over the gauntlet. It was charred to a similar degree as the one that fell from Thor’s arm. “Friday?”

“Authenticity confirmed, but this is not the one boss made. The tracker is missing,” Friday said.

“Is that Stark’s AI?” Barton eyed the glowing HUD with suspicion. He shifted the gauntlet out of view. The bulging veins on his arm suggested he had tightened his grip.

“In this universe, yes.” Stephen paid Barton’s hostility no mind. “In ours, Tony gifted her to me. Keep the gauntlet, but make sure Thanos doesn’t get it.”

Barton nodded sternly. He clipped the gauntlet onto his belt. A hunch told Stephen Barton didn’t trust them. Good, the ex-assassin had some wits left about him. Stephen released the spell that was burning against his palm. He waited until the heat dispersed, then weaved another, this time tracking the set of stones further into the ruins. The other set had moved since Stephen last checked.

“This way,” Stephen said. He lifted a foot, but didn’t manage to complete his step. The cloak whipped him around to face an alternate branch of the corridor.

“Doc, foreign signature detected,” Friday said.

With both the cloak and Friday alert for trouble, it was near impossible for Stephen to be blindsided. A figure emerged from around the corner. She wore leather combat gear. The orange of her face plate shone scarlet under the red lights. Her blue skin had taken on a shade of purple. The tip of her pistol was trained on Stephen.

“Oh hey, I know you,” Barton said. He gestured to Stephen and Peter. “Same side.”

Stephen fought the urge to facepalm. That was right. He mentally retracted his previous statement concerning Barton’s wits. “Biometrics identical,” Friday said. Data flowed down Stephen’s HUD as she compared the Nebula opposite them to the one she knew. The voice waves, retina and iris patterns matched perfectly.

“Is that what they told you?” Nebula asked.

“They’re from another universe, popped in after the snap,” Barton said.

“We’re here to help your universe defeat Thanos,” Peter added.

“Let me guess, seconds after they arrive, the explosion happened.” Nebula inched closer without lowering her pistol. “Come, we can’t trust them,” she said to Barton. The archer’s glance flicked to Stephen.

“She’s not who you think she is. The Nebula you know was captured by Thanos when she went to retrieve the Power Stone. The one standing before us is from an earlier point in time. She works for her father,” Stephen said. Barton looked to Nebula, then back at Stephen. He backed away from all of them.

“Barton, we can’t let them get the stones,” Nebula pressed. She took a step toward Barton, who nocked an arrow onto his bow.

“Ever wondered why she wasn’t in the room when the snap happened? Important event to miss, don’t you think?” Stephen channelled mystic energy into his hands. If necessary, he would subdue Barton by force. “She used that time to alter the time travel machine, so her father’s ship could travel to present day.”

“Prove that he’s lying,” Barton said to Nebula.

Nebula smirked. “You want to reverse the snap to get your family back.”

“She has access to Nebula’s memory files. She knows all recent events that occurred in this timeline.” Stephen felt the headache returning. Barton met Nebula within the current month. He couldn’t verify her knowledge beyond recent years.

“Now prove you’re here to help us,” Nebula said. The grin on her face widened.

Stephen ran over the information he had. There was nothing he could say or do that would act as indisputable proof. At his silence, Barton moved closer to Nebula, the tip of his arrow now aimed at Peter.

“You are making a grave mistake,” Stephen pleaded. Barton remained unswayed. “If Thanos gets that gau—” Gunfire interrupted his sentence. Nebula had pulled the trigger. The cloak yanked Stephen aside at the same time Peter reacted. The legs of his suit darted before Stephen, intercepting the bullet. He had been so swift, the protective runes on Stephen’s robes never activated.

Peter shot two bursts of webs at Barton, who ducked behind a pile of rubble. Stephen conjured the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak. He flung the band forward like a whip, scattering the rubble and exposing Barton. A flick of his wrist changed the direction of the band. It burned through the leather strap that secured the gauntlet. Nebula dove for the fallen artefact. She used her left hand to fire and her right to scoop up her prize. Peter short another burst of webs, which stuck both her hand and the gauntlet to the floor.

Barton came to Nebula’s aid. His arrow exploded on Peter’s chest, but the strike didn’t slow Peter down. Stephen wasn’t surprised. The Iron Spider was crafted from Tony’s best nanotech. Due to the fluid nature of the suit, Stephen couldn’t trace it with runes, but Peter didn’t need them. Common firearm failed to scratch the paint job. Anything that posed as a threat to Peter came from outer space.

Time to take Barton out of the fight. Sensing Stephen’s annoyance, the Cloak of Levitation dashed across the corridor. Its burgundy shell wrapped around Barton’s head. Stephen hadn’t wanted to maim, so the cloak dragged him about, banging his torso on chucks of concrete whist steering clear of steel rods. Seeing the cloak in action never failed to amuse Stephen. He didn’t let it show. Stephen walked up to the kneeling alien. The Crimson Bands of Cyttorak dripped molten lava onto the floor. “Final warning,” Stephen said to Nebula.

“Cut it out, the lot of you!”

“Stop!”

Stephen whipped around. Two groups of people rushed into the corridor from opposite ends. Tony and his counterpart emerged from behind them. He had been the one to demand that they cut it out. Tony ran for Stephen in a beeline. Gamora and a second Nebula stopped before her younger self. Gamora had drawn her weapon. Sensing the complication, the cloak unwrapped Barton and returned to rest on Stephen’s shoulder.

“You are betraying us,” the young Nebula said to her sister. Barton came to his senses. He sprung to his feet. Tony’s counterpart gestured for him to stand down.

“You don’t have to do this.” Nebula, whom Stephen suspected belonged to this timeline said. Her pistol remained strapped to her side. She raised both hands into the air, palms out.

The young Nebula looked from Gamora to her older self. Her eyes were wide and glassy. “I am…this.”

“No, you’re not,” Gamora said. Her aim on her sister wavered.

“You’ve seen what we become.” The Nebula of present day tapped on her temple, beneath which lay her memory files. Stephen didn’t dare take his eyes off the gauntlet. The young Nebula was armed and dangerous. Should the situation require it, he was ready to strike the killing blow.

“Nebula, listen to her.” Gamora saw Stephen’s change of posture. The hand on her gun stiffened.

“You can change,” the Nebula of present day inched closer. Her younger self was trapped. Surrounded by enemies, there was nowhere she could run. Gamora lowered her gun.

The young Nebula looked from Gamora to her older self. She tugged at her hand, which remained tacked to the floor. “He won’t let me.” With a grunt, she raised her pistol at her sister.

“No!” Gamora yelled, though Stephen suspected it wasn’t out of fear for her own life. Gamora reached for her sister, but never made it close. Gunfire echoed down the corridor. Nebula of present day had drawn her pistol and fired. Her younger self fell to the floor, with a sizzling hole on her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As both sets of Infinity Stones are now secure, the gang concludes their ruin shenanigans.
> 
> The big battle is next! Unfortunately, there won't be an update next week. This is because nutsack 2.0 needs a proper ass whopping. The next chapter will be the longest of this instalment, probably 2x the length of a standard chapter. For readability, I didn't want to split it in two. Chapter 11 will come on the 28th of July. Looking at my outline, when I planned for this instalment, a scene from the next chapter was the first I envisioned. There's a special kind of joy to in building the story up to reach this point, and finally being able to write that one scene. To everyone that's followed Anew!Tony's journey up until this point: THANK YOU! 
> 
> Let me know what you think. ;D
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

The world outside was grey with smoke. Tony emerged from the opening, his feet slippery against the loose rocks. The wreckage smelled of fire. His mouth was bitter with the taste of ash. The monstrous Sanctuary hovered above them, casting a shadow over the tattered compound and far beyond. Rolling dust clouds obscured the horizon. They were on Earth, yet despite the familiarity, the scene before him overlapped with the frozen void of his dreams. The footsteps of his teammates were masked by the howling winds. Tony didn’t hear Stephen near until the man stood beside him.

“What’s he been doing?” His counterpart walked up to alternate Thor, who had been the first to arrive, followed by alternate Steve.

“Absolutely nothing,” the God of Thunder of this universe said.

“Where are the stones?” alternate Steve asked. Tony lifted his right hand into view. The Iron Gauntlet fused seamlessly into Mark Eighty-five. Red and silver nanoparticles interlocked like streams that had been frozen in time. The metal was cool against his skin. Atmospheric energy radiated from the dormant stones, tickling his knuckles. The failsafe of the gauntlet severed all stones from access except Soul.

His counterpart held the other gauntlet. He hadn’t worn it like Tony. The Hulk-sized artefact had not changed shape since it brought half of the universe back from oblivion.

“We need to keep the stones away from the fight.” Alternate Steve eyed Tony, then the gauntlet on his hand.

“This thing’s not coming off until Thanos goes for good.” Tony bore the full weight of alternate Steve’s gaze and didn’t back down.

“Do you plan to use them?”

“If need be, yes.”

Alternate Steve took a deep breath. “The stones are too powerful for us to control.”

“Remember the time I took on Thanos alone and won? No?” Tony clapped his hands together, as if he’d suddenly remembered something. “Oh yeah, that’s right, you weren’t there.” He closed the distance until they were a hair's breadth away then lowered his voice. “And if the visions hold true, neither were you in this timeline. Only your informed opinion is valued, Rogers.”

The Gamora that had arrived with Thanos observed them. When the tension threatened to burst, she asked: “Why don’t we split up the stones? If my fa—if Thanos gets a whole set, he will destroy Earth.”

“The stones cannot be carried in their raw form. A vessel must disperse the energy.” Stephen took in both of the charred gauntlets. “Tony, the mechanisms are unstable. Maybe I should wear—”

“No.” Tony rarely cut off his partner, but that was an option he was not willing to consider.

“Tony…” Peter pleaded.

“Kid, I’ve done this once, it should be me. Plus, I’m the only one who can use the Soul Stone.” Tony averted Peter’s gaze and turned to his counterpart. “Who made the sacrifice in your timeline?”

“I did.” Clint stepped up to him with his jaw clenched.

Tony had noticed the missing Black Widow the moment he arrived. The visions had shown him little of Clint, but from what he pieced together, Clint’s entire family had been killed by the Decimation. His wife, daughter, two little boys…gone in the blink of an eye. Tony sighed. What were the odds. He took the other gauntlet from his counterpart and after a pause, gave it to Clint. “Put it on only as a last resort. If you can’t control the Soul Stone, don’t use it. It tends to whisper.” Clint nodded. “This one stays with me,” Tony said to alternate Steve.

Tony put on his best mask of authority, the one he reserved for the Armed Forces and the White House. Alternate Steve looked to his counterpart. Had he expected his counterpart to act against him? The other man’s gaze flicked one man to the next, but didn’t speak against Tony’s plan.

While the past might be buried, it certainly hasn’t been forgotten. The Steve now a part of his team had taken on the brunt of his wrath when he journeyed back in time. Tony hadn’t confused him with the man truly responsible for his death. Perhaps the recent years had been too easy on him. With Stephen as his right-hand and his most trusted advisor, Tony experienced unparalleled respect in the organisation he founded.

Despite being retired, he was globally admired. The younger generation sought his council. Any arguments within the Avengers were based on logic and reasoning. What had it been like to have his decisions questioned? To be the one who would give his assets, his intelligence, his _life_ to the cause, but still be defaulted to second-in-command? Tony couldn’t remember, that had been more than a lifetime ago.

Stephen furrowed his brows. With age, the lines on his face deepened. It didn’t subtract from his looks, but in moments like these, the lines reinforced that the Sorcerer Supreme was not pleased. Peter tensed up too. The ever-present smile on his face evaporated. Red nanoparticles flowed along the neck seam of his armour. The helmet would close in a fraction of a second.

“See the purple lump? Our fight’s over there.” His counterpart walked up to Tony. He patted Tony on the shoulder, then leaned in and whispered: “you know what he’s like.” He turned to alternate Steve and gestured to the wreckage. “Thanos goes wherever the stones go. We keep him here.”

The air froze. “Alright, Tony,” alternate Steve finally said.

Tony didn’t roll his eyes, but it was close. He walked to the edge of the clearing; beneath it was a forty feet drop. “Is it time for the Region Party Protocol, sir?” Jarvis asked.

“Jarvis, you read my mind.” A latch on Tony’s chrome arm opened. Tiny specks of white and navy flew from the compartment. They dispersed into a thick cloud. A sequence of popping noises followed. One by one, the specks exploded in size. First hundreds, then thousands of suits of armour popped into existence. They converged around Tony, then on his command, spread across the wreckage, framing the battlefield.

“Welcome to Earth, you bastard.” Tony doubted Thanos could hear him, but it was the thought that counted. The Legion flew for Sanctuary, intercepting any Outrider hoverbikes that had been deployed.

“Wow.” His counterpart looked over his head with the marvel of a child at Christmas. “I knew disbanding the Legion was a mistake. Just so we’re clear, you’re the good guy, right? Cause this getup is veering close to overlord territory.”

“You can’t be serious right now,” Tony said.

His counterpart shrugged. “Dunno. Evil twin from an alternate timeline? Sounds about right.”

“I’m missing the cape and the white cat. I also don’t monologue.”

“Lost opportunity.”

Alternate Thor hadn’t taken his eyes off Thanos. “You know it’s a trap, right?” he asked no one in particular.

“Yeah. I don’t much care,” his counterpart said.

“Good. Just as long as we are all in agreement.” A black cloud coiled beneath Sanctuary. Thunder roared in the distance. Electricity crept down alternate Thor’s arms. His eyes were lit by a familiar glow. A bout of lightning struck him as Stormbreaker and Mjolnir flew into his hands. Asgardian armour replaced the hoodie and sweatpants he had been wearing. If Tony blinked, he could see glimpses of the King of New Asgard from his universe. In a rare moment of clarity, the Aesir was ready. “Let’s kill him properly this time.”

Tony nodded. He descended the drop, his team a step behind him. His feet crushed rubble into fine dust. Thanos had let them argue. Sensing their approach, he looked to them. “You could not live with your own failure. Where did that bring you? _Back to me_.” The Titan’s forearms were covered by bracers, but his hands were bare. Tony closed his fist, feeling the squeeze of the Iron Gauntlet. “I thought by eliminating half of life, the other half would thrive. But you’ve shown me…that’s impossible. As long as there are those that remember what was, there will always be those that are unable to accept what can be. They will resist.”

“Yup, we are all kinds of stubborn,” his counterpart said.

Raised beside Thanos was a double blade sword. One tip had been sunken into the dirt, and on the other, rested his helmet. Thanos rose from his seat. “I’m thankful. Because now, I know what I must do. I will shred this universe down to its last atom, and then, with the stones you’ve collected for me, create a new one, teeming with life that knows not what is lost, but only what it’s been given.” Thanos donned his helmet. With a violent tug, he freed his sword. He looked to Tony and smiled. “ _A grateful universe_.”

“Born out of blood,” alternate Steve said.

“They’ll never know it.” Thanos lowered his centre of gravity. “Because you won’t be alive to tell them.”

The God of Thunder roared. Lightning struck the Mad Titan. Thanos had been ready for the strike. His armour absorbed most of the shock, while his sword sliced Peter’s web grenade in half. Alternate Steve threw his shield. It bounced off Thanos’ back. The Titan hardly staggered. Tony leapt into the air at the same time as his counterpart. The golden light of their repulsors lit up the wreckage. They had reached peak energy output, but it had hadn’t scratched their foe. Gamora freed Godslayer from its sheath. The blade lodged into Thano’s shoulder. She pressed on the blade with all her might, but it refused to pierce Titan steel.

“Daughter, I’m disappointed.” Thanos used his right hand to wield his sword, dispersing another bolt of lightning. He brought his left arm around. The fist sunk into Gamora’s stomach. She was flung across the ruins.

“No!” Nebula cried. She lunged at Thanos, who swept her aside like her sister.

An arrow struck Thanos’ cheek. Clint’s aim had been true, but the arrow bounced off as if it had struck stone. “Aim for the eyes!” Tony yelled in the group coms. Titan skin was as good as armour; there were only a few metals in the universe strong enough to pierce it.

“Tony, duck,” a smooth voice commanded. Tony heeded Stephen’s warning. The second he was out of the way, an amber whip soared over his head. Thanos avoided the whip on instinct. The lull in his movement gave Stephen time to complete a complex spell. With a swing of the sorcerer’s arm, the two mandalas on his hands merged into one. The Cloak of Levitation flew Stephen to the centre of the battlefield. A burst of mist escaped from the overlapping mandalas. Tony recognised that spell. The Vapors of Valtorr engulfed Thanos. Anything the mist touched turned to stone. Purple skin cracked and peeled. The Titan steel that had been shielding him dulled, then greyed. “Now!” Stephen said.

Alternate Steve threw his shield again. This time, the impact had been enough to crack Thanos’ helmet. Tony smirked. Thanos was a familiar foe. The Soul Stone had revealed his habits, but knowing his next move meant nothing if Tony couldn’t deal damage.

“Okay Thor, hit me!” The back of Mark Eighty-five morphed into an energy converter. Blasters fanned from his spine in the shape of a six-pointed star. He had practised this move with the Thor of his universe. He hoped the other Aesir caught on. Alternate Thor didn’t disappoint. Despite having never seen the device, he did as he was told. Raw lightning struck the node on Tony’s back. The converter intercepted the energy. Tony’s HUD was illuminated by an unusual glow. Flowing statistics told him he had reached 400% of peak energy output. The Starkium core in his chest hummed with the might of thunder.

An orange beam of energy escaped each of the six blasters, as well as both of his repulsors. Thanos grunted under the force. His sword shielded him from the beams, but the energy was unrelenting. Hairline cracks began to creep down his bracers, then his shoulder guard, then his chest piece. As Tony’s blast waned, Stephen crossed his hands in a bizarre gesture, and the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak flew for Thanos’ flank. The Titan was struck aside. His armour finally caved. Pieces of stone flaked away, exposing purple flesh carved with ancient symbols.

Thanos roared. The cry of outrage left Tony’s ears ringing. The Titan turned to Stephen, his eyes bulging with madness. Tony’s heart sank. Stephen was within a missile’s blast radius, so he shot several repulsor blasts at Thanos. The Titan didn’t fall for the distraction. Thanos charged for the sorcerer responsible for his condition. The cloak tried to whisk Stephen away but fallen concrete had blocked their path. A simple shield wouldn’t suffice. Stephen used the precious seconds to conjure a blue ring atop his head. The ring multiplied as it descended his body. Each ring of the Seven Rings of Raggadoor rotated differently, charmed with lost runes.

Alternate Thor struck Mjolnir with the blunt end of Stormbreaker. Mjolnir flew for Thanos. The hammer connected with Thanos’ chest, but it wasn’t enough to slow him. Thanos collided with Stephen. The Seven Rings of Raggadoor was a high-level defence spell, but it didn’t hold against a charging Titan. The rings shattered on impact. Stephen crashed against a plane of concrete. He rolled to the ground, unmoving.

“No!” Tony had never flown faster in his life. The thrusters burned against his heels. He landed between Thanos and Stephen. Alternate Thor joined him, along with his counterpart and alternate Steve. They were swatted aside like insects. Pain shot up Tony’s back as he crashed through concrete then dented steel reinforcement. System errors turned his HUD red. Tony paid the warnings no mind. He rolled himself over, in time to catch an arrow lodge inside the crack between Thanos’ armour. Its tip sank into a patch of skinless flesh. Thanos didn’t flinch or deviate from his path.

Tony watched him close in on Stephen. He tried to fly but couldn’t. Nanotech needed time to self-repair. The Soul Stone whispered Thanos’ innermost thoughts. Tony’s heart convulsed with fear. Thanos raised his blade. There was only one option left. Tony deactivated the failsafe on the Iron Gauntlet. Infinite energy threatened to overload his system. He could feel the right side of his body burning. Tony raised his hand, but before he could close his fist, a beam of lightning knocked Thanos aside. Tony gasped. He searched the battlefield. Alternate Thor was nowhere to be seen.

“Leave him alone, _asshole_ ,” a breathy voice called. It couldn’t be. Tony turned. First, there was the glint of nanotech, then the red and blue stripes. The glowing eyes of the Iron Spider dissolved to reveal the face of a flushed Peter Parker. The young Avenger’s right hand was firm around Mjolnir, the artefact docile and light. Peter leapt into the air. He brought Mjolnir up from under, socking Thanos in the jaw. Peter raised the hammer that no mortal could wield. Lightning fell from the sky, striking Thanos in the chest. The Mad Titan spat out a mouthful of blood. Peter channelled another beam of lightning. Thanos rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding it. He grabbed Peter by the collar and slammed him to the ground.

Disoriented, Peter struggled to stand. Thanos used the pause to pick up his sword. He brought the edge down at the same time Peter leapt out of the way. Peter used Mjolnir to counter most of the strikes, but Thanos was too fast, and far more experienced. The legs of the Iron Spider filled in the gaps. Titan steel sliced through mortal technology like butter. Chunks of the Iron Spider was hacked away with each strike. Peter’s armour grew thinner. He withdrew the nanoparticles from his feet to strengthen the spider legs. It wasn’t long before he left an opening. Thanos saw it, and his sword nicked Peter’s calf. The young Avenger lost balance. Thanos used the opportunity to knock Mjolnir from Peter’s grasp. His weighted punch sank into Peter’s stomach.

Thanos surveyed the battlefield, taking in the sight of the injured. He looked to Tony and the gauntlet on his hand. “What’s the matter? Why haven’t you done it? You know what follows.” At the notion, Thanos laughed. “Or perhaps you haven’t done it, because you know what follows too well.”

Tony panted inside his helmet. His breath fogged up his HUD. The failsafe was open. The right side of his body burned with energy. He hadn’t made his intention known, which made the pain bearable. Of course he knew the consequences. He knew better than anyone. He had been the one to build the gauntlet. He had been the one to study the stone’s effect. He had used them once and felt the impact. There was no going back from this.

Tony wasn’t afraid to tempt fate. He had done it so many times he lost count, but this was different. What would happen to his world if he used the gauntlet again? Had he been a part of a self-fulfilling prophecy? They had travelled to this universe to stop his counterpart from using the gauntlet, yet here he was, about to use it himself. He looked to the glistening stones. The Power Stone longed to destroy; the Mind Stone whispered sweet temptations; the Space Stone laughed with cold contempt; the Reality Stone showed him worlds that once were and worlds that could be; the Time Stone promised to lift the veil of the mundane; but the Soul Stone, the stone for which he had sacrificed his greatest love told him to look inside himself.

Death was a door. Tony had crossed it once. He was familiar with the other side. Something else had frozen his hand. It was a darker thought, a thought Tony couldn’t shine a light on. In the heat of the moment, most decisions were easy, but given the chance to think, the mind would hesitate. If he closed his fist, then he would never see his loved ones again. His happiness, his family, the future he had fought so hard for…

Gone.

“No mortal is meant to wield such power.” Sensing Tony’s hesitation, Thanos smiled. “In all my years of conquest, violence, slaughter… It’s never personal. But I’ll tell you now, what I’m about to do to your stubborn, annoying little planet… I’m going to enjoy it, very, very much.”

A blue beam of energy erupted from the hull of Sanctuary. Inside rode an army that had ended civilisations. The Iron Legion had been worn thin. With another blast from the mothership, the last of the white and navy swarm fell from the sky. The blue light dispersed, revealing the alien forces. Leviathans swam through the air like armoured whales. Dropships impaled the earth. Chained beasts that could rival the size of the Hulk peppered the army, pulled along by their leash. Their faces twisted with the lust for blood. Tens of thousands of Outriders marched, led by the Children of Thanos.

Tony clamped his jaw shut. The lump in his chest was shattered by a bout of clarity. They had journeyed here to save his counterpart. The gauntlet would create a shockwave strong enough to bridge two Multiverses, but all those factors had become moot, because Tony was _here_. He had been the other end of the wire, the node from which the impact would spread. With him physically inside another Multiverse, the shockwave would never reach his world.

Most of his team was powerless against the biggest threat Earth has ever known. Could he do nothing? Could he watch the world burn? His team had followed him across the void. Could he let them down? All those years ago, he had flown into the wormhole and caught a glimpse of annihilation. He had fought and fell and struggled for all these years, so he could stand tall and say without a sliver of doubt that he had tried.

He did all he could.

With a grunt, Tony rose from the ground. He lifted the Iron Gauntlet. Infinite energy coursed through his veins. The Mad Titan’s eyes widened. Silently, Tony thanked everyone that had made his journey possible. This would be the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark.

Tony closed his fist. He waited. Seconds passed, yet the pain never arrived. He looked to the gauntlet. Jarvis hadn’t shown a system error. Tony closed his fist again, then twice more in rapid succession. Nothing. The gauntlet remained bright but docile.

“Tony…” a voice called from the side. Tony whipped around. Stephen had regained consciousness. “I love you, but you need to stop jumping to conclusions.”

“Miss Friday has overridden the gauntlet’s failsafe measures. Until further notice, the gauntlet will remain unusable,” Jarvis said.

“Stephanie, you’re raining on my parade.” Tony brought up an exploded isometric of the gauntlet. Friday had jumbled the codes, even a master engineer like Tony would need time to identify the error.

“Your parade is scheduled in five.” Stephen smirked. “Look.”

Tony turned. It began with a single spark. An amber ring twirled into existence. On the other side was a lush jungle. The warm breeze passed the filter of his suit, tickling his face. The Wakandans emerged into view. Another portal opened beside them. Stephen, no, Stephen’s counterpart descended from the sky. His hair was dark, his skin smooth, and his cloak red. The man greeted him with a curt nod. A younger Peter landed in front of him. Gosh, had he once been this small? Their presence whisked Tony back in time. It was as if he had returned to the grass fields of Wakanda five years ago. Tony’s heart was so full it might burst.

“Mr. Stark?” The younger Peter came up to him. Tony shook his head. He gestured to his counterpart, who was struggling to get up. The boy ran for his mentor. His counterpart took in the boy as if he had found a long-lost treasure. He interrupted the boy’s mumbling by wrapping him in a tight hug.

Another Drax, another Mantis, and another Quill landed beside Stephen’s counterpart. “Have we missed the party?” Alternate Quill asked.

“No, Flash Gordan, you’re fashionably late.” Tony laughed. Hundreds of portals big and small peppered the grey sky. The sorcerers from Kamar-Taj, the Asgardian army, led by Valkyrie, ginormous spaceships Tony had never seen before, and aliens Tony had never met gathered at the ruins. _Quill’s friends_ , Tony assumed.

A dull _thud_ sounded from across the wreckage. A blue suit of armour landed before his counterpart. The faceplate opened, and Tony was greeted with a sight that couldn’t be unseen. _Pepper was inside the suit!_

“Is that everyone?” Stephen’s counterpart asked alternate Wong.

“What, you wanted more?” Alternate Wong squinted at the Sorcerer Supreme of his universe.

Tony flew to Stephen and helped him up. “We need to talk,” Stephen said to his counterpart, who nodded in response. Their conversation was halted by an explosion. What remained of the compound burst open. Giant-Man rose from the rubble, his hand raised, carrying something. A figure rode across the sky in lightning. The Thor Tony could trust to watch his back appeared with his brother. His landing struck a small crater.

“About damn time,” Tony said.

“Took a detour to be saviour of the unfortunate,” Loki said. Both Hulks, both Rhodeys, Sam, Steve, Bucky, and the remainder of the Guardians escaped Giant-Man’s palm. They were drenched, but joined the battle nonetheless. The wreckage was packed with reinforcements. Thanos’ army was half a mile away, but no one had struck the first blow. They were waiting for something.

Tony met his counterpart’s gaze. “Call it.” The other man looked back with raised brows. Tony gestured to his team behind him. “I’ve had my shot. You should do the honour.”

His counterpart smiled. He looked to his wife, who nodded in response. “Alright,” the other man said. He hadn’t needed to move, he already stood at the frontlines of battle. His counterpart took in the accumulating forces and opened his mouth.

“Avengers… _assemble!_ ”

Tony took off. His thrusters were hot, and his body was light. Stephen carried Peter, the Cloak of Levitation hovering them alongside Tony. Those that could fly led the charge. Common bullets blasted past extra-terrestrial energy beams. The Wakandans retained formation. Vibranium powered spears pierced a dozen Outriders. Drax and his counterpart teamed up. One took on a Hulk-sized monster head on while the other hopped onto its back and stabbed away. Giant-Man punched a Leviathan in the face. Scott’s fist dented the monster’s pointed nose. The Leviathan let out a pinched shrill. With one more punch, it fell from the sky. Tony vowed to take Scott seriously from now on because that was pretty cool.

His counterpart flew along an alternate Pepper Potts. Repulsor blasts took down Outriders and enemy hoverbikes. They fought beside each other, twisting and interchanging flightpaths as if engaged in an intricate dance. His counterpart landed to assist a yellow alien that had been overrun, while alternate Pepper helped another. “Look out!” Tony yelled. Cull Obsidian knocked the man aside. The reptilian monster raised his war axe, but before he could bring it down, a string of translucent webs stuck to the tip of the axe. The younger Peter pulled, tipping Cull Obsidian back. A humongous foot crushed the fallen creature, armour and all. Giant-Man saluted to his counterpart and marched on.

While Tony was still, something dashed past him in a red blur. Stephen’s counterpart. The man flew straight for a squadron of Outriders. The area was lit purple by a spell Tony didn’t know. Pillars of light raised the Outriders high into the air then slammed them back down.

His partner flew for another group. The cloak fanned out behind him, his hair fluttering in the breeze. Stephen drew in the air with strings of golden light. Three mandalas formed from tessellating triangles eclipsed each other. Golden rain fell from an invisible cloud. The droplets smote the Outrider squadron like beams of heavenly wrath. It wasn’t until the last of the squadron fell that the Rain of Raggadorr stopped.

Tony marvelled at the dominating force that was the two Sorcerer Supremes. Then something struck him. “Are you dick measuring with yourself?” Tony asked his partner, who looked away sheepishly.

“Hey.” Tony’s counterpart landed beside Stephen’s. “You said one out of fourteen million we win, yeah?” The man panted. He surveyed the battlefield. More Outriders emerged from the Dropships. The distant reinforcement formed a black swarm. There was a hint of quiver in his voice. “Tell me this is it.”

“If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen,” Stephen’s counterpart said.

The other man nodded. Stephen’s counterpart turned to Tony and Stephen with a complicated look. He flew for a Leviathan without another word. Static sounded in the group coms, then Clint’s voice. “What should I do with this damn thing?” Clint yelled over the gunfire. Tony snuck a peek at the archer as he gutted an Outrider. Enemy forces charged at Clint. His gauntlet was secure, but from the looks of things, it wouldn’t be for long.

“Sire,” Ebony Maw pointed to the glistening stones. Thanos sliced a sorcerer in half. His eyes remained trained on the gauntlet. Proxima Midnight and Corvus Glaive closed in on Clint. The archer struggled to dodge the coming attacks. A purple shockwave scattered the foes.

“Clint!” T’Challa yelled from the distance. He had released the kinetic energy in his suit. “Give it to me.”

Clint threw the gauntlet across the battlefield. Tony’s heart jumped to the back of his throat. He watched the red chunk of nanoparticles soar in a wide arc. It flew past gunfire, plasma grenades, the claws of Outriders, then landed in T’Challa’s arms. Tony’s heart settled back inside his chest. T’Challa was in far better shape than Clint. He’d keep the gauntlet secure.

Enraged, Thanos threw his sword at T’Challa. Tony knocked it aside. He and Stephen landed between the Mad Titan and his prize. “Think again, nutsack,” Tony said as Stephen wove another spell.

Thanos took in the ominous aura. “Rain fire!” he yelled at his children.

“But sire, our troops…” Corvus Glaive said.

Thanos turned to the leader of his children with cold eyes. “Just do it.”

Tony looked to the sky. Jarvis zoomed in on Sanctuary. Its side plate retracted, revealing rows upon rows of blasters. They opened fire. Thousands of stations rained molten plasma upon the battlefield, killing without discrimination. Stephen abandoned his spell to form a mandala. Plasma struck the orange shield, causing damage which Stephen quickly patched.

“Is anyone else seeing this?” alternate Pepper asked in the group coms.

Tony had a bad feeling about this. He looked to the Hudson river. The retaining wall that had been holding back the water shattered under the force of the blasters. “Stephen!” Tony turned to his partner. The sorcerer had his hands full, but they needed to patch the opening, or else the water would drown everyone.

“It’s alright, watch.” Stephen gestured to his counterpart, who flew to the opening. The Winds of Watoomb circled the rushing water, rounding it into a cluster and lifting it back up. Tony had always known Stephen was gifted in the Mystic Arts but altering a force of nature was something else entirely. “Hold on!” Stephen yelled. The raining plasma was overwhelming. The earth beneath their feet caved into its power. They were sinking further into the crater with each blast. Soil bounced off Tony’s armour. More people took up shelter beside him. The earth threatened to bury them.

Then the world was silent. The blasters stopped. Tony looked up in time to see them rotate toward the sky. They opened fire again. “Jarvis, what are they shooting at?”

“An unidentified object has entered the upper atmosphere,” his trusty AI said.

A golden comet flew for Sanctuary. The blasters fired away but couldn’t alter the comet’s course. _Was that…?_ Tony drew in a sharp breath. He had seen her before, in his visions. Carol Danvers didn’t falter. She pierced through the monstrous mothership, entering from the top of the hull and exiting from the bottom. She circled around the malfunctioning blasters, then pierced the ship again, this time entering from the bottom and exiting from the top. Sanctuary was ignited by a chain explosion. The ship that had ended civilisations fell from the sky. It landed in the Hudson River, filling in the damaged wall. The resulting shockwave knocked T’Challa off his feet. The gauntlet fell from his grasp, landing in the dirt with a dull _clink_.

Tony’s gaze met with Thanos’ from across the battlefield. They both leapt for the fallen artefact. Thanos’ hand grasped it seconds before Tony. He swiped Tony aside. Pain shot up Tony’s back as he rolled through the wreckage. The steel reinforcement cracked his shoulder blade. Alternate Thor and alternate Steve jumped on top of Thanos. The Mad Titan activated the Power Stone, flinging them into the distance. Danvers was up next. She grabbed the gauntlet then forced Thanos back with all her might. The Mad Titan couldn’t close his fist, so he removed the Power Stone from the gauntlet, using his free hand to knock her aside.

His counterpart could no longer hide his desperation. He looked to Stephen’s counterpart, who raised a shaking hand. The sorcerer’s fingers slowly formed the number one.

One in fourteen million.

A look of realisation replaced his desperation. His counterpart threw himself at Thanos. Tony forced his body to rise. The pain from his back was debilitating. His counterpart wrestled for the gauntlet, but it was no use. Thanos was three times as big and countless times strong. He knocked the other man aside.

The Mad Titan marvelled at the gauntlet on his hand. His eyes reflected the red of the shell. He looked to the fallen Avengers with contempt. “I am…inevitable.”

Thanos snapped his fingers. The world came to a still. All that was audible was the dull clunk of metal rubbing against each other. The smiled faded from Thanos’ lips. Nothing happened. He turned the gauntlet over. Empty sockets confronted him from where the stones should have been.

Thanos’ gaze snapped to Tony’s counterpart. The other man knelt in the dirt. Six gleaming stones travelled up his arm. Infinite power lit up his veins. The glow of red, orange, yellow, purple, green, and blue morphed into a white light. The man didn’t even have a gauntlet; he had infused the stones into his armour. The Mad Titan’s jaw dropped. No mortal was meant to wield such power.

Tony watched the scene unfold. He took in the smile on the other man’s lips. There was a sense of calmness to it. Despite the stones burning his skin, his mind was clear. There was no madness, no hesitation. He raised his arm. The wheels of destiny turned. In that moment, seconds before death, his counterpart’s life flashed before Tony’s eyes. He shared his joy, witnessed his struggles, and experienced his pain. He saw the other man long for home, felt his desire to hold his wife and daughter in his arms.

He didn’t want to leave. He had so much to live for. He loved his family, but he was the only person who could, therefore he must. His counterpart’s thumb and index finger touched. “No!” Tony pushed off the ground. He flew for the other man, because this couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be how things ended.

His hand touched his counterpart’s shoulder. His back burned with pain but Tony pushed on. The gauntlet’s energy coursed through him too. Tony grunted under the scorching heat. He commanded the only stone that would listen to help disperse the energy. Something else touched his shoulder too. Tony turned and looked into a set of sky-blue eyes. The same colour had guided him to find his new world. Stephen smiled at him as the gauntlet’s energy illuminated his features. Suddenly the pain wasn’t so tough to bear.

“You fool.” The heat evaporated Tony’s tears. “You’ll die.”

“Together,” Stephen said.

A hand landed on Tony’s other shoulder. Peter. He was joined by his younger self. The five of them created a circuit of energy. Debris levitated from the ground, forming a cutting whirlwind with Tony’s counterpart at the centre. Stephen reached into the debris. He was struck by rocks and shards of metal. His skin bloodied within seconds. Before Tony could ask what he was doing, a hand joined his. The whirlwind blurred Loki’s features, but the light in his eyes shone through the veil of darkness. Electricity pierced the barrier. The God of Thunder siphoned a large chunk of energy from the circuit, lightening their load. He and Loki formed a physical connection between those in the whirlwind and the outside world.

More and more people joined them. Their remaining team, Guardians of the Galaxy, sorcerers, Asgardians, Wakandans, aliens they had never known existed… Those who could still stand rushed toward the whirlwind. They locked hands with each other. Energy bounced from one body to the next. His counterpart was struck speechless by the turn of events. The power of the Infinity Stones threatened to overload them all, but none left the circuit. Thousands of pairs of glowing eyes looked to their common enemy. Thanos watched with stunned silence.

Tony helped his counterpart stand. Connected by infinite power, their consciousness synced. This was the biggest battle of their lives, but with their team behind them, they weren’t afraid. They forged this world. They crawled out of that cave in Afghanistan. They made the new element. They survived Siberia. They built their future with their hands and their minds and their heart. No one could take that away. They looked Thanos dead in the eyes.

“And we…are… _the Avengers_.”

They snapped their fingers. White light swallowed the battlefield. The shockwave scattered them, breaking the link. Tony fell to the ground. This time he couldn’t get back up. His back was numb. He craned his head to the side. The scorched gauntlet fell from his counterpart’s hand. Half of his body was burnt.

Above them, Leviathans fell from the sky. Their scaled bodies crumbled apart. Outriders sank to their knees. The Black Order disintegrated. Thanos looked on as his children were reduced to fine flakes. He sat, taking in the quiet chaos. The purple of his skin faded.

After another heartbeat, the Mad Titan turned to dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of a team, a family of heroes had been what attracted me to the Avengers. There is something beautiful about unity, that people, despite their conflicting goals could come together and act as a part of a whole. They could become something greater than themselves, and in the process, accomplish something they could never do alone.
> 
> If Tony ended up saved the universe by himself, why on Earth did the Avengers assemble?
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

The jade crown of cedar trees swayed in the lakeside breeze. Tony strolled up the driveway lined with river stones. He was close to the edge, where stone met grass.

The air was light with the joy of victory. After a week of catering to the aftermath of battle, it had been due time to let their hair down. Two days ago, his counterpart hosted a nation-wide celebration. They cleared the Times Square for the event, which hadn’t been difficult, considering the sheer magnitude of their victory and the downtrodden economy. The current president awarded the other man with his own Presidential Medal of Freedom. Tony never wore his, but it was nice to see his counterpart acknowledged for a lifetime of work.

Drinks had been flowing, and everyone was invited. The other man might have greyed, but never let it be said that a Stark aged out of parties. The celebration continued for thirty-six hours. Tony nursed the throb that knocked from inside his skull. He lost track of how much he drank, but judging from his hangover, it had been enough to poison the regular man.

With the hard drinking over, alternate Pepper suggested they host another quiet, more personal gathering in their lakeside home. It had been a thoughtful gesture. Those who came with Tony would journey across the void tomorrow. While the media-coined biggest party of the century had been a thrill, it hadn’t offered them time to chat. Tony smiled as he caught glimpses of his teammates behind the foliage. Stephen and Peter had joined the rest of their peers. They both wished to meet their counterparts properly. Tony was no exception, but he wasn’t in a hurry, and if the universe would have it, he wouldn’t be for a long time.

Sunlight dappled the forest floor. The golden grass looked warm to the touch. Tony steered off the driveway. He waded through the shrubs. Leaves, wet with dew brushed past his thighs. The property in the distance was as mundane as the life his counterpart sought. Charcoal steel capped a quaint cable roof. Timber balustrades framed the veranda. The house sat on a foundation lined with sandstone, matching the soot-stained chimney. Tony compared it to his own version of retirement. Stark Tower had been sold in his counterpart’s timeline, and the Malibu mansion destroyed. As some paraphrase of the saying went, one never knew how much they had until a worse reality slapped them across the face.

Tony took a deep breath. Damp air sat in his lungs, cleansing them. He listened to the birds chirp. Their song layered over the guest’s chatter. For the first time since the universe showed him his counterpart, the coil in his body unwound.

His counterpart hadn’t been down in the grass field. The guests had spread out, but Tony suspected the other man wouldn’t be far from home. He picked up his pace. A strange rustle stopped him. Tony whipped around, the arc reactor humming. There was nothing. A thought came to him. He took a few steps back and waited.

After a while, the forehead and eyes of the Rescue helmet emerged from behind the tree trunk. She was about three feet tall, with brown locks drapped over her shoulders. She wore jeans and a Spider-Man hoodie. Tony snickered at the mishmash combo of merchandise.

Confronted by a waiting Tony, she let out a soft gasp. She looked around. Finding no aid, the little superhero squared her shoulders and raised her hands. They were covered by knitted repulsor gloves. “Pew pew! Pew pew!” She made repulsor sounds as she pressed her hands back and forth.

Tony clutched his chest with both hands. He rolled to the ground. “Ah! You got me!”

The little superhero ran up to him. She kept her distance at first, then slowly scooted over. Seeing that Tony was done and dusted, she took off her mask, revealing the face of one flushed Morgan Stark. “I win!”

“Yes, young lady. You sure did.” Tony propped himself up with his elbow. He lifted a strand of soft hair from her face. The little superhero squealed with delight. “Having fun out here?”

“Daddy won’t let me join the grownups.” Morgan pouted.

“Oh, daddy’s being very naughty.” Tony took in the little girl. She hadn’t confused him with her dad. His counterpart must’ve had a fun time explaining who he was.

“Hey, don’t say that. Daddy is the best!” Morgan leapt to her feet. She crossed her arms, her little eyes narrowed.

Tony sat at those words. Now that was something rare in a toddler. “You’re defending him, even though you’re pissed at him?” Tony grimaced at his choice of words. Gotta watch his language around the kids. Thankfully, Morgan didn’t pick up his slip. “You must really love him, huh?”

“I love him three thousand.” Morgan beamed.

Tony laughed. He picked up the little bundle of joy. “Wow, three thousand? That’s crazy! What about me? I look like him, don’t I? Do I get some love too?”

Morgan’s brows bunched into a knot. She placed her hand over Tony’s nose, then moved on to his cheeks and goatee. “Hmmm…okay. I’ll love you two thousand.”

Tony gasped. “Two thousand, I’m spoiled rotten.” He looked to the house in the distance. “Say, do you know where your old man is?” Morgan nodded. Tony waded through the shrubs following her instructions. She appeared eager to help, but Tony had a feeling she just wanted to go on an adventure. They found his counterpart on the pier by the lake. The other man stood beside alternate Pepper. They chatted quietly. Tony stopped at the end of the pier. The other man deserved some time with his wife.

Alternate Pepper was the first to spot him. She smiled and approached him, taking Morgan off his hands. She reassured Tony that he hadn’t interrupted them, then returned to the house with her daughter. Morgan waved at him as she left. Tony waved back.

He walked down the pier. Weathered wood creaked beneath his boots. His counterpart took a seat on the end plank. His feet dangled above green lake water. Tony joined him. It was hard to imagine that a week ago, half of his body had suffered from third degree burns. The size of the group had been enough to disperse the shockwave, but no circuit could offset the heat generated by the Infinity Stones. Stephen had injected his counterpart with two vials of Extremis. Tony fared better. Despite the debilitating pain, his spine had been intact. With semi-Super Soldier enhancement, he self-healed within days of his counterpart.

Before them the water rippled, its pattern disturbed by the odd duck. Tony leaned back. The pier was toasty from the sun. The heat of the wood radiated through his shirt. He donned his sunglasses and watched the sky. It was picture perfect.

“So, you and the wizard?” his counterpart asked.

“Married five years, together for ten,” Tony said.

“ _Wow_.”

“You know, all that mushy stuff aside, he’s not a bad guy. Stubborn like a bull, acid tongued, a bit snobbish, but not like we can complain, right?” Tony winked at his counterpart. The other man laughed. He felt the temperature of the wood with his palm, then leaned back too. He landed on the pier beside Tony, their shoulders almost touching. “You should get to know him, invite him to tea. He’d like that.”

“Good company?”

“Much better than the sort you continue to tolerate, no offense.”

“None taken.”

They basked in the afternoon sun, enjoying its heat. Tony craned his neck to the side. His counterpart’s goatee was golden brown, speckled with white. Tony ran a hand through his own. It had thinned a little throughout the years, much to his dismay. “How are you feeling, old man?”

“A bit stiff around the ol’ shoulder, but I’ll live…” the other man trailed off. They watched the clouds come and go. Extremis harnessed a being’s bioelectrical potential. It stimulated unparalleled regrowth, closed wounds that would otherwise kill, but in essence, what the virus did was expend a person’s ability to heal ahead of time. Cells could not regenerate indefinitely. At his age, his counterpart would suffer a period of weakness, where he struggled to lift things and tired easily. It was better than the alternative.

“…I’m beginning to think this really might be it,” his counterpart mumbled as he stared at the sky. “God, sometimes I wonder how I keep making it through these things. I want to release a public statement, hang up the suit for good. I’ve gone over it with Pep. She supports the decision.” The other man sat, kicking his legs beneath the planks. “I want to do it so bad, but it just doesn’t feel right, you know? For the longest time, it’s been threat after threat after threat, back to back.”

“Sometimes it feels like there’s no one else in the world but you.” The words jumped from Tony’s mouth.

“Yeah.”

“Well, you want a little slice of alternate wisdom?” Tony sat too. His counterpart looked at him and nodded. “There’s always someone else. It doesn’t, and shouldn’t have to fall all on you.”

“That sounds so weird coming from my mouth.”

“Better believe it.”

It had taken Tony years to confront that fact. He has made peace with it since. The events of Afghanistan had struck him with an unwelcomed realisation, that perhaps all along, he had been what was wrong with the world. He smashed his old values and built Iron Man, a symbol of peace and protection. He gave the last of his best years to the cause. Looking back, he now saw what Stephen had always seen: a broken man, too afraid to ask for help.

“The other half of your team is back. The younger generation will grow. It’s time,” Tony said.

His counterpart held up his hands. They were tough, marred with small scars. He let out a long sigh. Starks always knew what was best for them. They might not do it, but they knew.

The other man cleared his throat, breaking the sombre silence. He looked over his shoulder, then gestured to Tony’s chrome arm. “What happened after you…left?” His voice lowered. “I saw visions of you using the gauntlet, but never how it panned out.”

“I went to the Crossroads, the dimension connecting all alternate planes of existence. Stephen’s mentor waited for me. She guided me to my new world.” Beneath the veil of the mundane, lay alternate dimensions, otherworldly deities, and an infinite number of possibilities. Secrets to greater power hid behind closed doors, whose locks weather with time. Tony recalled meeting the All-Father. The Aesir past his prime had said that time hid, and time revealed. Tony hadn’t thought much of it then.

“And I thought this time-travel stuff is crazy.” His counterpart shivered at the idea. “How could you have known? What if the other side wasn’t what you expected?”

“There are people you’ll go to the end of the universe for. When you get there, and you realise it’s not enough, you’ll go further. They deserve it, and you deserve to be with them.”

Their consciousness may no longer be synced, but Tony knew which face popped into his counterpart’s mind. The Accords had struck a wound that would never truly heal. The other man loved his team, but not without reserve.

No. He hadn’t done it for them, and he had his wife and daughter. Perhaps to the greying man, there had been only one person on the other side worth crossing over for, a boy who used to follow him around Stark Tower, who took the internship cover-up way too seriously, a boy who looked at him like he was brighter than the burning sun.

They sat at the end of the pier, with the breeze in their hair. “Are you…?” his counterpart asked.

“What? Oh, retired? Yeah, I am,” Tony said.

“And the world just…carried on?”

“Yup, slightly more chaotic than before, but we’ll let the kids figure that out. And it’s not like I’ve retired to outer space. When the big threats come, I’ll be back where I started. I’m here now, aren’t I?” His counterpart considered his words. “By the way, do you want this?” Tony gestured to himself. Despite his age, his muscles bulged from under his shirt. Tony couldn’t count the number of times his enhancement had saved him. His counterpart could use some help. “I’m a little rusty in the genetics department. I can jot down what I remember and leave a sample of Extremis.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. With that thing, I’ll never hang up the suit.” His counterpart thought about it, then added: “I’ll take the serum though. Can’t be too careful.”

“Done.” Tony retrieved a vial of the Extremis Super Serum from his chrome arm.

His counterpart accepted the sample and shook it vigorously. The serum sploshed against the glass. “Amazing. How did you stabilise it?”

“Tell you what, show me your time-travel machine, and I’ll show you all the cool stuff we came up with. Stephen is a genius. Half my ideas come from him.” Tony activated his sunglasses. He tapped on the frame to navigate the folders, highlighting his proudest creations.

“Download initiated,” Jarvis said.

The corners of the other man’s lips lifted. They dropped quickly. He looked to Tony, his eyes covered by a glossy sheen. It took Tony some time to realise the other man hadn’t been staring at him, but at the little ball of code morphing before his eyes.

“Jarvis, buddy, I’m sorry.” His counterpart lowered his gaze. The realisation opened old wounds. A decade had passed since Tony closed his eyes in Siberia then opened them again in Malibu. So much had changed. Tony had corrected his mistakes, avoided his regrets, but to his counterpart, what had come to pass had been etched into the tome of time. The past could not be rewritten. What had been lost could not be found. What had been broken could not be mended. What he had sacrificed could not return.

“Sir, you were never at fault.” His counterpart’s head snapped up at those words. Jarvis was a cloud of incorporeal data. He had no physical form, but if he did, Tony suspected he would be smiling. “I have no regrets. My best days were spent with you.”

The other man’s lips trembled. The glassy sheen to his eyes thickened. Gravity pulled the liquid, and they welled at the bottom of his eyes. He turned and wiped his face with his sleeve. Tony pretended not to notice.

“Download complete,” Jarvis said. “Transfer initiated.”

“Come, let’s get back to the house. Pepper makes a mean guacamole.” His counterpart stood from the edge of the pier. “Talking shop with myself? Sounds like a dream come true. Hey, did you ever figure out how the Bi-Frost worked? I got close, but can’t seem to piece the package back together. Kinda defeats the purpose of extra-terrestrial mail, if the thing arrives in atoms.”

“You what? Why would you do that?”

“Not everyone’s spouse draws magic circles.” His counterpart babbled on as they made way for the house.  The breeze ruffled the back of Tony’s shirt. He turned. There were people by the pier, people who hadn’t been there before. Tony couldn’t quite make out their faces. They faded in and out of existence and interchanged between themselves. Some wore black, others white. For a moment, Tony thought he heard the ring of bells. He blinked, and they were gone. The lake was quiet. The water green and rippling.

“Hey, you coming?” his counterpart yelled from the distance.

There were places in the universe where the barrier between worlds wore thin. The longer one stared at the abyss, the longer the abyss stared back. Perhaps it was high time they left.

Tony shook the strange feeling from his chest and joined his other self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like the Tonys deserved their own chapter to catch up. We will see the other characters chat in the next chapter, then a short epilogue.
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

Peter admired the grass field. A small clearing had been made for the chairs and tables. Outside the clearing, an expanse of silky green blades rippled under the passing wind. Peter grabbed a sandwich without picking the filling. He walked to the edge of the clearing and flopped onto the soft blades. It was a damp, but comfortable.

Peter tore a chunk off the sandwich. He had been back for a week and counting, but nothing seemed real. Had he really been blipped on Titan, then blipped back again after five years had passed? His high school group chat had exploded after the event. His classmates came up with wild illuminati theories. Being one of the few that had experienced the battle from beginning to end, Peter didn’t know which version was more outlandish.

He supposed there was no use in overthinking it. Mr. Stark had given him a break from Avenger duties. _Be a kid_ , his mentor had said. _Go back to school_. A year ago, or rather, six years ago, Peter would have turned his nose up at the idea. He was Spider-Man. He had superpowers, for crying out loud. Looking back, Mr. Stark had always done his best to protect him.

Maybe taking a break wasn’t such a bad idea. The world was in celebration. The streets were quiet. Just for a while, New York could do without its friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.

Peter went in for a second bite. The bread slipped from his fingers. His teeth clanked painfully. Peter jerked up. A man stood six feet away. He was clad in a maroon pin-stripe suit, paired with leather oxfords, and Peter’s sandwich in his hands. Statistics flowed down the lens of his glasses. A ball of code danced on the upper left corner. Webshooters peeked from under the cuffs of his dress shirt. He wore Peter’s face.

The hairs on the back of Peter’s neck stood up. His Spidey sense told him this man was out for trouble. Peter leapt to his feet. “That’s my sandwich.”

“Really?” His older self said with feigned shock. “Then why is it in my hand?”

Peter pursed his lips. With a flick of his wrist, his webshooters deployed. A string of translucent webs soared toward his older self, striking thin air. Peter yelped as his left hand was glued to his chest. When had the man moved? Peter flipped to the side. Two clusters of webs struck the grass he had been standing on. Peter circled the man. It was as if his older self had eyes on the back of his head. Peter’s webs didn’t come within a foot of touching him. He wore a suit and oxfords but moved with the grace of a gymnast.

The man crouched. A string of webs flew for his knees. Peter rolled to the side, but the web split mid-air. It had been one of the webshooter configurations that nearly got him killed tailing Liz’s dad. The right-hand string glued his knees together. He tumbled to the ground.

The other man webbed him into a cocoon. The tensile strength of his webs was off the charts. Peter could rip a car apart with his bare hands, but no matter how hard he tried, the webs refused to tear. His older self walked up to him. He finished Peter’s sandwich with small bites as he watched Peter struggle.

“Hey, do we have a problem here?” Happy ran up to them. He had been watching from across the clearing.

“No, we’re just messing around.” His older self winked at Happy. “Right?” He turned to Peter.

The webs were making it hard for Peter to breathe. He gritted his teeth and stared at his older self. “Yeah, Happy. We’re good. Just messing around.”

Happy looked from Peter to his older self. “Alright, but don’t forget, I’m watching you.”

His older self softened at those words. There was something in his eyes, a mixture of fondness and nostalgia. “I’m sure you are, Happy.”

With a curt nod, Happy walked away. He turned with every dozen step. His older self waited until Happy was out of earshot. “That was pathetic.” The man said as he dusted his hands free of bread crumbs.

“You had better webs,” Peter muttered.

“Try telling that to the aliens. What would you have done if I was an Outrider?” His older self crouched in front of him. Peter jerked harder against the webs. “Since web-shooting isn’t your forte, let’s try up here.” The man tapped on his temple. “Let’s say another Thanos comes. His army breaks through to the surface. A Dropship lands in Midtown, another in Brooklyn. Where do you go?”

“Mi—Midtown!” That was the place with the denser population. There were taller skyscrapers.

His older self lifted the corners of his lips. It was a cold smile. “What about the people in Brooklyn? You are gonna let them die?”

Peter heaved against the webs. He constructed the scenario in his mind. The screams of civilians filled his ears. Peter shook them out of his head. “What about the Avengers? I mean, the rest of the Avengers.”

“Occupied.”

Peter’s opened and closed his mouth. He wanted to say they couldn’t all be busy, but what happened in New York five years ago popped into his head. The Avengers had been scattered, half the team in exile. Vision had run off with his girlfriend. Dr. Banner couldn’t become the Hulk. Dr. Strange had been captured. When he found Mr. Stark, the monster’s axe had been five feet from his mentor’s head and closing.

That was right. _Mr. Stark_. “Mr. Stark would know what to do,” Peter said.

The last of the smile faded from his older self’s face. “You stupid little shit.”

They were cruel words, and the man had meant every single one. It was jarring to hear them from his own mouth. Peter’s Spidey sense told him to run.

“Yeah, he does know, and he responds beautifully. He had been retired, you see. Lived with Stephen in Malibu. Stephen had been in another dimension, so he sends those available to Midtown, and flies with you to Brooklyn. He and the Legion clear the aliens as you watch from the sidelines. You let your guard down. Then just when you think it’s over, the spacecraft activates, its lasers aim at you. A hand pushes you out of the way. The next thing you know, he’s on the ground. The reactor’s shattered. He has a hole an inch below his sternum. You inject Extremis into hm. You wait. His heart stops beating. You wait some more.”

Peter didn’t dare make a sound. He held his breath as he listened. “He…he made it, right? I mean, he’s with us today.” Peter craned his neck up. A bout of panic struck him. The other Mr. Stark had disappeared.

His older self waved off Peter’s concern. “Yeah, that time. Then would come years of incidents big and small. What you can’t do, he makes up for it. He steps out of retirement, his life of peace, again and again and again to help you. You aren’t good enough. The world looks for the next Iron Man, but you are no Iron Man.”

The man sighed. He looked to the house in the distance, then pinched the bridge of his nose. When he looked down at Peter again, all traces of emotion were gone. “He has lost his arm, borne more injuries than a human should withstand. The pain will pile up. He will inch closer and closer to death, until one day, for some easily foreseeable reason, he falls. This time he won't get back up.” Peter’s older self looked into his eyes. “A life of repeating injuries, pain, then death. Is that what you want for him?”

“No!” Peter yelled. His throat closed up. The webs that bound him weighed a ton a thread. He was pinned to the ground. The reality his older self described made him dizzy. The thought was sickening. He wouldn’t wish that upon anyone, let alone his childhood hero, but deep down, a voice told him that if he didn’t do anything, that would be the most likely outcome.

“Then it’s time you stepped up.” His older self rose. He stretched, cracking his back, then smiled at Happy across the clearing. The head of security pointed his index and middle finger at his eyes, then at his older self. The man sprayed something at Peter’s restraints. The webs dissolved, leaving nothing behind but the red welts on Peter’s skin. “Your Tony’s doing worse. He isn’t even enhanced. So what he got to keep his arm? Human biology is fragile. He suffered an at best crippling injury. You noticed how he couldn’t lift his plate?”

Peter looked away. He hadn’t.

“Let me guess, he told you to finish college. Be a kid.” His older self pulled him up. The man dusted Peter off. “Your suit can be fixed, your web fluid improved. Accept his help. You’re gonna need it. But don’t depend on him like he’s immortal, because he’s not. Don’t make the mistakes I made.”

With one last pat on the shoulder, his older self walked away. Peter stared at his broad shoulders, toned muscles, and long legs. He thought about the application form he’d filled out for a two-week summer field trip to Europe. It was sitting on his desk back home, waiting to be submitted.

Maybe now was not the best time for him to be far from home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this update deals with two separate POVs, I have split them into two chapters. Thor is up next.
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

It had been a while since Thor enjoyed eating anything. Back in his shed by the piers of New Asgard, food had been naught but a distraction. He gave himself to it, over and over again, maintained a belly so full it might burst. He wove with his meals an illusion of satisfaction. Food had lost the value it once held. Or perhaps the microwaved dinners never held a candle to the feasts his family hosted in the great hall. 

Thor looked to the buffet table. It was clothed with white linen. Fancy little canapés rested in fine china. They were circled with spring flowers, the petals supple and sweet with perfume. He picked up a piece of smoked salmon, resting on whipped cheese and a slice of cucumber. This, he would enjoy.

The ingredients mushed against the roof of his mouth. The salty oils of the salmon balanced against the richness of whipped cheese, and the fresh crunch of cucumber. Thor hummed as he took another. He ate his way down the table, then returned to the start to grab a second serving of the ones he enjoyed. Grass tickled his feet through the holes of his crocs. His hoodie smelled of the sun. Thor let out a sigh of contentment. He surveyed his plate and selected a berry tart.

“A fine choice, the berries were from the hostess’ garden. She tended the vines herself.” The velvet voice drew the sweetness from the tart. Thor swallowed the rising jitters. He hadn’t heard them approach. Standing further down the table, dressed in a dark grey suit, was his brother.

No—he was Loki, Loki from the other Multiverse. Behind the other Loki, stood an Aesir who made Thor’s scalp tingle. He had been avoiding his alternate self since he first laid eyes on him. The other man wore a pair of pale pink pants. A matching jacket hung from his arm. His beard was styled in a warrior’s braid, and his hair neatly tied back. Muscles bulged from under his royal blue dress shirt. Despite the bright colours, his eyes were dark. His chin was elevated, his shoulders squared, and his chest proud: the stance of a king.

Thor looked away, but not before setting down his plate and rubbing his hands on his sweatpants. He dusted the crumbs from his beard. Silence smothered the three of them. Thor was intent on studying the grass. The stalks were stomped by sure footsteps. His alternate self’s leather boots strolled into view, coming to a stop opposite grey rubber. Thor supposed it was too late to change footwear.

Slowly, he looked up. His alternate self regarded him with thinly veiled disdain. “Oh, stop it,” the other Loki said. He nudged Thor’s alternate self out of the way. “It was not our intention to offend.”

“You must think me a fool, to be provoked by the faintest slight.” Thor laughed, the sounds short and quick. “You have my thanks for defending this universe. How does yours fare?”

“Excellent,” his alternate self said. “The capital of New Asgard tripled within the past five seasons. We have rebuilt the palace. It’s scheduled for expansion next year.”

Thor smiled and nodded. He suspected the capital his alternate self mentioned did not match his understanding of the word. When had it gotten so hot? He should remove his hoodie. Thor glanced over his alternate self’s narrow waist and flat stomach. He zipped his hoodie all the way up.

The other Loki tugged on his alternate self’s arm, who shrugged it off. “We have cultivated the seeds bought from our homeland. Some had taken to Earth’s soil. The apothecary brewed them into elixirs and ointments. The mortals favoured the exotic.” Thor did not speak. His alternate self looked him over from head to toe. “Your people struggle to feed themselves, yet you indulge without shame. You are unworthy to rule.”

Each word sank a spike into Thor’s heart. It was worse enough he couldn’t compare to Brunnhilde. Now he couldn’t even compare to himself.

“Have you lost the last of your wits?” the other Loki hissed. “He wields Mjolnir, does he not?”

“Worth is not measured by a hammer.”

“Excuse me.” Thor walked as fast as he could without running. The other man couldn’t see him flee. He crossed the clearing which held the gathering, avoiding the guests until he was alone. The lakeside woods were sparse. He could see the house from here. It wasn’t far enough.

With no one else to pass judgement, Thor ran. He passed the trees as fast as he could. They were the wrong shape. The trunks too thin, and the foliage too low. Nonetheless, the woods livened unwelcomed memories. Somewhere deep inside the forest, a boy laughed. Thor whipped his head to the side, catching a glimpse of raven locks. His crocs slipped against the grass.

“I swear you are all the same,” his brother—no, the other Loki said. The Aesir leaned against a tree with his arms folded. He had been waiting for him. A cold force squeezed Thor’s heart. His brother used to do that. It was as if he knew where Thor would go before he had decided for himself.

Thor kicked at the ground. On the third thrash, he found footing. He hulled himself up. “I’m fine.” He dusted the decaying leaves from his hoodie. “Everything is fine.”

“I apologise. My brother can be blunt at the best of times. We wish only to introduce ourselves, and to discuss your current…circumstance.” The other Loki neared after Thor had made himself decent.

“There is nothing to discuss,” Thor said without missing a beat.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

The other Loki sighed. It was a long, defeated sound. He looked to the woods. There was nothing there. Without his alternate self’s domineering presence, Thor studied the other Loki for the first time. He took in those emerald coloured eyes, he took in hair darker than the hidden corners of the universe. His brother would hide his hands behind his back too. Thor never knew if they’d reach out with a dagger or a sweet treat.

By the gods, they were so alike.

Thor’s lips trembled. He told himself to keep it together. The other Loki began to walk away. “Wait!” Thor called. The other Loki turned. “Did you receive those visions too? Like the other Stark.”

The other Loki regarded him with a blank expression. “Yes.”

Thor didn’t want to know the answer, but it was his final chance, and if he didn’t at least ask, he would never forgive himself. “Were you there when he…” The word choked him. He couldn’t get it out.

“When he died? Yes.” The other Loki returned. There was a sadness in his eyes. His face blurred. Thor realised he was crying.

“What were his final thoughts? Did he resent me? I was supposed to protect him. He faced the Mad Titan all alone.” Thor couldn’t hold it together anymore. It was an ugly sight, one he did not wish for anyone to see, let alone his brother from an alternate dimension. The tears fell, despite his best efforts. Thor supposed it was fitting. His best efforts never amounted to anything.

There was a pinkness to the other Loki’s eyes. “No. He never resented you. Not even in the worst of times. He loved you. He loved his mother, his father. He loved his home with all his heart.”

Thor’s breath hitched. He was having trouble staying upright. Was that what he had wanted to hear? He didn’t know. Oh, what wouldn’t he give to return to those golden years. He’d treasure every second. He had wasted so much time, chasing the illusion of grandeur, when what he truly sought receded before him, year by year.

The other Loki brushed a leaf from his hair. He looked to the foliage above. Thor followed. The crowns swayed in the lakeside breeze, giving way to golden hues. “Look at the light,” the other Loki said. “Feel its warmth.”

Thor looked from the sun to the other Loki. Hesitantly, he lifted his hands. He circled them around the other Aesir, and when no protest came, pulled him into a hug.

“I’m sorry.” Thor didn’t know who he had apologised to.

A pair of hands reached around him. The other Loki returned the hug. “Everything will be alright.”

Thor smiled at those words. His eyelids were hot and gummy. He struggled to open them. When he did, he was confronted by a sight he would never forget. Through the woods, through the haze of his tears, beneath the shining sun, he saw his brother smile back. He saw his mother’s turquoise dress, his father’s golden armour. He saw Heimdall’s orange eyes, heard the laughter of the Warriors Three.

They smiled at him. Warm and radiant. It was as if the doors of Valhalla had opened.

 _Thor_.

_Son._

_Brother._

They called to him one by one.

_Everything will be alright._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up will be Stephen, and then the true Epilogue which will tie up this entire overhaul. My sincerest thanks to everyone who has followed the story until now. Wow, what a journey. I could not have done this alone.
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

The gathering carried well into the afternoon. Stephen sipped on a glass of pinot as Rhodes entertained the group. They were seated in a circle, and the story was nearing its punchline. The retired colonel did love his tank jokes. Stephen had heard the story before. His mind drifted from the chatter. He had enjoyed many lengthy conversations with the guests today, but the man whose attention he sought continued to elude him.

The sun was setting from their continent. Stephen savoured the wine as he took in the changing colours. All beauty was fleeting. The burning sphere dipped below the distant hills, taking with it the warmth of day. On the flip side of the fragile blue planet they called home, morning would come.

Stephen buttoned up his suit jacket. There was movement in the corner of his eyes. The Sorcerer Supreme of Earth-199999 stood at the edge of the clearing. He beckoned Stephen to follow. Stephen excused himself from the group. They waded through the grass and the woods, coming to a stop before the lake. From here they could see the house across the darkening water. Yellow light filtered into the forest from behind closed blinds.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” the other man said. His brows were knotted tightly.

“I thought you didn’t.” Stephen turned his wedding band with his thumb. It rubbed against the engagement ring and the pale strip of flesh on his finger. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Look, I know what you want to say,” his counterpart snapped. “There was no other way. It was him, or trillions of lives alongside him.”

“I know.”

The other man was taken aback by Stephen’s answer. Frustration lit up his eyes. “Don’t pretend to know. I gained access to your timeline after you arrived. If it came down to it, you would never let him go.”

“Perhaps.” Stephen returned the other man’s gaze openly. He has had years to think this through. “But the weight of a barren universe would be too much for Tony to bear. He would never forgive me or himself if we had the chance to change the outcome, but didn’t.”

Stephen’s partner was many things. Genius. Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist. Although the third now stood corrected. He and Tony used to laugh about it over wine. There was an abundance of traits to love, but what had won Stephen’s respect so irrevocably, was Tony’s sense of responsibility.

His partner carried the world on his shoulders. Tony knew it would someday be the death of him, but what began as love for his nation had grown into an all-encompassing love for life. Tony has such a big heart. It pained Stephen to think about it.

“To respect his wishes, I would win the war, no matter the cost. Then I would find him. I would scour every plane of existence until I do. He has done the same for me,” Stephen said.

The other man lowered his gaze. “I would’ve taken his place.”

Stephen nodded. He had never doubted his counterpart’s incentive. They didn’t become Sorcerer Supreme to decide who lived and who died. They took up the mantle to save lives. The path on which they marched was the same that had led them to become a doctor.

“I’m surprised the judgement of others trouble you.” Stephen took a step toward the other man. If he was truly Stephen’s double, he would see this gesture as the tip of the olive branch.

“It doesn’t, and there has been no judgement. He hasn’t told anyone.” His counterpart sighed, but didn’t back away. Stephen took a step further, coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the other man. The lake was a black pool under the dying light. Streaks of fuchsia and purple carried them to a distant memory. Stephen’s chest grew tight at the haunting colours. He concentrated on the absence of snow.

“A part of me wishes he had,” his counterpart said, sudden and unprompted. Stephen understood the sentiment. The hostess had welcomed them with a bright smile. She’d pulled the other man aside and thanked him for caring for her husband on Titan. It was a shame no cold eye could incite.

“You should talk about it,” Stephen said.

“With whom?”

Stephen graced his counterpart with a pointed look. “Who else?”

The other man snapped his gaze back to the lake. He pursed his lips. “Fourteen million six hundred and five possibilities. I lived through all of them. For years we fought, side by side. We watched each other’s back.” He shook his head. “To him, I’m just a stranger who nearly got him killed.”

“You can change that. You’ve still got time.” The word escaped Stephen’s lips in a whisper. Time, the inevitable counted down. He could remove that timer, become immortal like his mentor, but what good would that bring? He wanted a full life, not a never-ending journey. “Unless you detest him, that is.”

The other man laughed. “Oh, he’s insufferable. Arrogant, snobbish…so full of himself. You’d think he was in love with his own voice…” his words trailed off as the smirk faded from his lips.

“But…?” Stephen asked after a pause.

The hardened lines of his counterpart’s jaw softened. “He’s a good man, a brave man. Like a match that lights up the void, fragile and fleeting, but an inspiration…a promise of a better tomorrow.” The knot in his brows loosened, and his words flowed easier this time. The Tony Stark of this universe might be different than Stephen’s Tony, but somewhere up the stream of time, they had been one and the same.

“You know, the sanctum gets eerily quiet. He’s a portal away.” Stephen nudged, none-too-subtly.

“He doesn’t need me looking over his shoulder.” His counterpart crossed his arms.

Stephen let out a long sigh. “Look at his team, if you’d call that a team. The exiles can’t be trusted. Rhodes is retired. Thor and Danvers are going off-world. The kid is only sixteen. He doesn’t need another Rogers. What he needs…is an _Avenger_.”

The other man held his gaze. Under the haze of twilight, the creases on his skin dissolved. His eyes were pale blue and glowing. The black of his hair shone with health. For a man well into his forties, he looked…young.

“I’ll consider it,” his counterpart finally said.

A voice from Stephen’s watch disrupted his hum of approval. “ _Stephanie, you there?_ ”

Stephen clipped on his earpiece. “Yes, Tony?”

“ _We’re thinking of heading off_. _Heard you’re getting cosy with alternate wizard. Mind if I join?_ ”

His counterpart arched a well-groomed eyebrow. Stephen’s cheeks burned. He hoped it wasn’t obvious in this light. “Get your mind out of the gutter. We’ll come back now.”

“ _See you at the house_.”

Stephen unclipped his earpiece. He found the other man staring at him. “What?”

“Your smile...” His counterpart cringed. “It’s moronic.”

Stephen touched his face. Had he been smiling? He rolled his eyes at his counterpart’s look of disgust. “Just promise you’ll keep an eye on the Avengers.”

“Will I grow into a nag too, or is it just you?” The other man tsked. When Stephen held his gaze, he added: “Fine.”

Satisfied with the reply, Stephen turned without waiting for his counterpart. Sandwiched between earth and sky, the lakeside cottage offered some semblance of normality. If Stephen tuned out the man behind him, he could almost forget the mission that had bought him here. But this was not his home. Dimension travel was no small feat. If things continued the way they were supposed to. None of them would meet their other selves again.

He and Tony had done all they could. The rest was not up to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by:  
> [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/)  
> 

The team returned to the compound in another vortex of light. They tended to Thor’s injuries in organised chaos. Bruce kept Thor in the lab for observations, but from the looks of things, the Aesir would be okay. The team headed to their respective rooms to rest. Tomorrow morning, they would scatter to the far ends of the globe again, remaining apart until they are needed to assemble.

Tony and Stephen returned to Stark Tower via the permanent portal. They were both exhausted. Tony fixed some scrambled eggs on toast while Stephen scanned the timeline for anomalies. Thankfully, their alternate universe escapade hadn’t broken the space-time continuum. They washed down the eggs with black coffee. The sun was almost up, no use going to bed now.

“Your turn to load the dishwasher.” Tony stifled a yawn. He extended his arms, and his partner left his seat to sink into the couch beside him.

“Isn’t it always my turn?” Stephen pulled Tony on top of him.

“Smart man.” Tony relaxed against his human-sized cushion. Stephen always managed to smell amazing, no matter the time of day, no matter the occasion. It was a skill Tony hadn’t yet mastered. He played with the cuff of Stephen’s shirt. “You think they’ll be okay?”

He heard Stephen chuckle. “Yes. The worst is over.” Tony took Stephen’s left hand and stacked it with his. Their rings met with a soft clink.

“You know…” Stephen suddenly spoke. “You might not be married to Pepper, but adopting a baby girl isn’t a bad idea. You’ve got time on your hands, and the dimensions aren’t always threatening to collapse.”

“Getting lonely in your old age?” No witty retort filled the gap between his words. Tony looked over his shoulder. Stephen regarded him with a surprisingly sombre expression.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her. Peter and Harley visit often, but they’ve left home. You’ve always loved children. I can’t give you Morgan, but I can—”

Tony was nimble as a swallow. His lips touched Stephen’s. He had kissed many pairs of lips in his youth. In time, the sensations faded. But this, Tony would remember. He remembered their first kiss, him half strapped in the operating chair, with Stephen leaning over him. The mighty Sorcerer Supreme had been a doctor then.

Oh…how the years escaped them.

They parted for air. Tony rubbed his thumb over each of Stephen’s fingers. He thought about the offer, then smiled and shook his head. “We’ve already got two to take care of. I’ve been given a second, and a third chance. This life…it’s everything I could’ve wished for. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Tony leaned onto Stephen, felt the rhythm of the other man’s heart. It slowed until it matched Tony’s. Together, they watched the twilight.

Tony wondered what his counterpart was doing. Had he put his daughter to bed and turned in for the night? Perhaps he would slip away from his wife and watch the skies like they did. It had seemed so alien to him, the world he used to call his own.

His coming birthday would mark his fifteenth year away. Tony didn’t miss it. He had made a life for himself here, with his family. Stephen’s warmth radiated through his shirt. The universe had taken many things from him, but in this moment, Tony couldn’t help but feel a sliver of gratitude.

In the horizon, the sky began to yellow. The tip of the sun peeked through the concrete jungle. The automated downlights of Stark Tower dimmed. Caught in the ephemeral lull between twilight and dawn, New York City was suspended in stasis.

Tomorrow would be another ordinary day.

 

 

 

_Enouement._

_-Fin-_

 

 

_Tony and Stephen will live happily ever after._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I write this final author note, I'm overwhelmed by a feeling of wistful contentment. When I completed Renew, I had signed off with an optimistic promise, that the two characters who had taken me on a ride for one and a half years will return. Now I know this really is the end.
> 
> This third instalment had been unplanned. The overhaul should’ve ended with the resolution of Thanos. Some of the most impactful works of fiction doesn’t have a happy ending. Tragedy leaves a bittersweet taste in our mouths. I suppose I could’ve let it be, but as things stood, I simply couldn’t bear to see Tony come so close to the happiness he had fought for, only to watch it slip from his grasp.
> 
> We turn to fiction for solace. Reality is harsh. Life can be cruel. People don’t get what they deserve. Only between the pages, does the world become what we want it to be. 
> 
> Tony might be gone in the MCU, but the characters we know and love lives inside us forever.
> 
> This has been an unforgettable journey. I’d like to express my sincerest gratitude to everyone who has followed the story until the very end, and a special thank you to my beta: [Missaness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missaness/pseuds/Missaness/). I couldn’t have done this without any of you.
> 
> Thank you for reading this story. Until next time.
> 
> Tumblr: [ivivao3.tumblr.com](https://ivivao3.tumblr.com/)  
> p.s. subscribe to my author profile for alerts on future works.


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